'UBRART1! 

ONlvtHSITY  Of 
CALIFORNIA 
SAN  OICSO         J 


LILIECRONA'S   HOME 


LILIECRONA'S    HOME 

A    NOVEL    BY  SELMA  \LAGERLOF 

WINNER  OF  THE  NOBEL  PRIZE  FOR  LITERATURE.  AUTHOR  OF 
"COST  A  BERLING,"  "JERUSALEM,"  "THE  ADVENTURES  OF 
NILS,"  "THE  GIRL  FROM  THE  MARSHCROFT,"  ETC.  ETC. 


TRANSLATED   FROM  THE   SWEDISH 

BY 

ANNA   HARWELL 


NEW    YORK 
E.   P.   BUTTON   &  COMPANY 

MCMXIV 


All  rights  reserved 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER   I 

rr.  .-,  PAGE 

THE  bTORM-WIND  .  ...          I 

CHAPTER  II 
THE  SPINNING-WHEELS      .  .  ...      19 

CHAPTER  III 
THE  BLACK  LAKE  .  .  ...      29 

CHAPTER  IV 
SNOW-WHITE        .  .  .  .          .       .      38 

CHAPTER  V 
THE  PASTOR  OF  SVARTSJO  .  .  .       .      81 

CHAPTER  VI 
THE  MAGIC  PANCAKE         .  .  ...      87 

CHAPTER  VII 
THE  BRIDE'S  DANCE          .  .  •  •       •      95 

CHAPTER  VIII 
THE  FOX-PIT        .  .  .  .          .       .    117 

CHAPTER   IX 
THE  SILVER  THALER          .  .  .          .       .    126 

CHAPTER   X 

THE  PASTOR  FROM  FINLAND  .  ,          .       .    143 

v 


vi  Contents 

CHAPTER   XI 

FACE 

THE  SMITH  FROM  HENRIKSBERG     .  .       .    160 

CHAPTER  XII 
ENSIGN  ORNECLOU  .  .  .  .    174 

CHAPTER   XIII 
THE  DAILY  ROUND  .  .  ...    191 

CHAPTER  XIV 
A  SPRING  EVENING  .  .  ...    202 

CHAPTER  XV 
THE  ACCUSATION  .  .  218 

CHAPTER   XVI 
THK  REST  STONE  .  .242 

CHAPTER  XVII 
THE  WATER  SPIRITS  IN  LOVDALA  .  ,  250 

CHAPTER  XVIII 
THE  HOME  .  .  .  ...    256 


Liliecrona's  Home 


CHAPTER  I 

THE    STORM-WIND 

ON  Christmas  Day,  1880,  a  pitiless  storm 
raged  over  Lovsjo  (Green  Lake)  District 
in  Varmland.  It  seemed  as  though  the  heavens 
meant  to  tear  up  everything  on  earth  and  make 
a  clean  sweep  of  it  all. 

Now,  do  not  say  that  no  doubt  there  have 
been  storms  as  bad  both  before  and  since,  and, 
above  all,  do  not  let  any  of  the  Lovsjo  dwellers 
hear  you,  for  they  have  known  from  their 
earliest  childhood  that  the  like  of  this  storm 
could  never  even  be  imagined. 

They  can  still  count  up  all  the  fences  that  were 
torn  down,  all  the  thatched  roofs  snatched  off, 
all  the  cow-houses  blown  over,  so  that  for  days 
the  poor  beasts  lay  buried  in  the  ruins.  And 
they  can  point  to  all  the  places  where  fire  broke 
out  and  was  fanned  by  the  wind  until  the  whole 
village  was  in  ashes.  And  they  have  been  on 
all  the  heights  and  mountain-tops  where  tree 
after  tree  fell,  until  they  stood  naked  and  bare 
as  they  are  to-day. 


2  Liliecrona's  Home 

We  know,  indeed,  the  common  proverb  that 
it  is  an  ill  wind  that  blows  nobody  good,  but 
no  one  could  believe  that  it  was  true  of  this 
Christmas  storm,  for,  indeed,  it  was  plainly 
to  be  seen  that  it  only  brought  with  it  one 
misfortune  after  another. 

And  I  fancy  that  the  one  least  ready  of  all 
to  believe  that  anything  good  could  come  from 
the  storm  was  the  "  Little-Maid  "  from  Koltorp. 
She  was  not  to  be  trifled  with,  this  little  lass, 
as  she  stood  that  Christmas  morning  on  the  edge 
of  the  forest,  and  saw  how  the  air  in  the  valley 
beneath  her  was  thick  and  dark  with  snow  and 
dust  and  all  that  the  wind  was  driving  before 
it.  Never  in  all  her  life,  and  she  was  thirteen 
past,  had  she  met  with  such  a  disappointment. 
As  a  rule,  she  could  keep  up  her  spirits  in  toil 
and  trouble,  but  this  was  almost  more  than  she 
could  bear.  A  very  little  more  and  the  tears 
would  start  from  the  large  bright  eyes  and  trickle 
down  over  the  pale  thin  little  face. 

Little-Maid  had  gone  a  little  beyond  the  edge 
of  the  forest  to  see  what  the  storm  was  like,  and 
the  wind  tore  at  the  handkerchief  over  her 
head,  buffeted  her  short  white  sheepskin  jacket, 
and  whipped  her  homespun  skirt  so  sharply 
round  her  legs  that  it  nearly  knocked  her  over. 

She  was  not  alone,  her  Mother  and  "  Little- 
Lad  "  were  there  as  well.  Both  were  dressed 
like  Little-Maid,  in  short  white  sheepskin 
jackets  and  skirts  of  stiff  black  homespun. 
Nor  could  it  well  be  otherwise,  for  Little-Maid 
inherited  her  clothes  from  her  Mother,  and 
Little-Lad  came  into  possession  after  her.  But 


The  Storm-wind  3 

there  was  this  difference  between  them  and 
Little-Maid  that,  although  their  clothes  were 
just  as  warm  as  hers,  they  had  not  gone  outside 
the  forest,  but  still  stood  in  its  shelter. 

The  Mother  and  Little-Lad  had  just  the  same 
thin  pinched  faces  as  Little-Maid,  and  the  same 
clever,  bright  eyes,  and  they  too  thought 
what  a  misfortune  this  storm  was,  and  were 
not  far  off  tears  of  disappointment  either. 
But  they  did  not  look  nearly  so  desperate  as  she 
did. 

For  you  must  know  she  was  standing  just  on 
the  high  ground  above  Beckgorden  in  the  Bro 
parish,  and  could  follow  the  long  twists  and 
curves  of  the  road  leading  down  to  Bro  Church. 
And  she  saw  how  the  peasant  folk  who  had 
started  to  go  to  church  turned  back  home  again. 
This  was  all  she  needed  to  understand  that  it 
would  be  quite  impossible  for  her  Mother  and 
the  Little-Lad  to  walk  twelve  miles  down  to 
Nugord  in  the  Svartsjo  parish,  where  they  had 
meant  to  eat  their  Christmas  dinner. 

She  really  couldn't  help  clenching  her  fist 
inside  her  glove  when  she  realised  it.  If  it 
had  only  not  been  so  quiet  in  the  forest,  where 
they  lived.  If  only  they  had  known  what  the 
weather  was  like  before  they  came  to  the  edge 
of  the  trees.  Then  they  would  never  have 
started  from  home,  and  that  would  have  pleased 
her  much  better. 

For,  you  see,  there  was  nothing  she  felt  so 
contemptible  as  to  turn  back,  and  not  be  able 
to  go  where  she  wanted. 

If  only  she  had  not  all  the  year  reckoned  on 


4  Liliecrona's  Home 

this  Christmas  Day  in  Nugord  !  If  only  she 
had  not  seen  before  her  eyes  this  minute  the 
big  steaming  pans,  the  long  tables  with  their 
white  cloths,  and  the  great  dishes  stacked  high 
with  wild  geese.  If  only  she  and  the  Little-Lad 
had  not  said  to  each  other  whenever  Mother 
had  no  food  to  give  them  :  "  When  we  go  to 
Uncle's  Christmas  feast  in  Nugord  we  shall  have 
as  much  as  we  can  eat."  Only  to  think  that 
they  were  boiling  sweet  soup  with  raisins  in  it 
down  there,  that  there  was  rice-porridge  and 
cakes,  jam,  coffee,  and  pastry,  and  she  was  not 
to  taste  one  of  them  ! 

She  was  so  angry  that  she  really  wished  she 
had  someone  there  to  vent  her  anger  on.  She 
thought  to  herself  that  the  storm-wind  might 
have  known  better  than  to  come  just  then. 
It  was  a  holiday,  so  he  was  not  wanted  to  turn 
the  mill,  and  winter,  too,  when  no  one  wanted 
his  help  out  on  the  lake,  so  he  might  just  as  well 
have  taken  a  rest.  But  what  was  the  good  of 
telling  a  storm-wind  that  ? 

It  was  the  worst  piece  of  road  that  she  had 
before  her  now — down  past  Helgesater  and  up 
the  Broby  Hills  right  on  to  Loven  and  the 
church  with  the  great  Parsonage  grounds — for 
the  road  there  went  across  an  open,  treeless 
stretch  of  land.  If  they  could  only  get  over  that 
and  struggle  up  the  Hedeby  Hills,  all  the 
danger  would  be  over,  for,  after  that,  it  was 
nothing  but  forest. 

It  did  not  look  so  dreadfully  far.  She 
thought  they  might  at  least  try,  for  at  the 
worst  they  could  but  fail. 


The  Storm-wind  5 

So  she  was  glad  whilst  her  Mother  stood 
thinking,  for  it  was  always  possible  that  she 
might  decide  to  go  on.  But  then  she  noticed 
that  her  Mother  turned  to  go  into  the  forest,  and 
Little-Lad,  of  course,  turned  too. 

Then  Little-Maid  began  to  go  in  the  opposite 
direction,  straight  out  on  to  the  hill,  at  first 
very  slowly,  but  then  more  and  more  quickly, 
for  the  wind  came  behind  her  and  almost  forced 
her  to  run. 

She  took  good  care  not  to  look  back  for  fear 
her  Mother  and  Little-Lad  should  beckon  to  her 
to  turn.  She  was  almost  sure  they  had  stopped, 
and  were  calling  to  her,  but  that  need  not  trouble 
her,  for  now  that  she  was  really  out  in  the 
tempest  there  was  such  a  din  and  racket  that  she 
could  hear  nothing  clearly. 

It  was  impossible  for  Mother  to  run  and 
catch  her  up,  for  she  had  to  keep  hold  of 
Little-Lad's  hand  to  save  him  from  being  blown 
away,  so  that  she  could  not  get  on  quickly 
at  all. 

It  was  not  that  Little-Maid  wanted  to  turn, 
for  such  a  thought  never  entered  her  head,  but 
she  was  obliged  to  confess  to  herself  that  she  had 
never  dreamt  the  weather  was  so  bad  as  this. 
Over  her  head  there  flew  great  dark  birds  with 
fluttering  wings  that  the  wind  was  driving  before 
it  with  such  force  that  body  and  wings  were 
swept  asunder.  She  thought  she  had  never  seen 
anything  so  horrible,  until  she  found  out  that 
they  were  great  bundles  of  straw  torn  from  some 
roof  or  other. 

If  she  took  a  step  against  the  wind,  it  rose 


6  Liliecrona's  Home 

like  a  prancing  horse  and  threatened  to  throw 
her  down,  while,  if  she  took  a  step  with  it,  it 
shot  after  her,  so  that  she  had  to  bend  knees 
and  back  too  to  stand  against  its  force.  She 
grew  so  weary  of  the  continual  battle  that 
she  felt  as  if  she  had  been  dragging  a  heavy 
load. 

From  the  north  it  came  too,  as  cold  as  though 
it  had  been  dancing  with  death,  so  strong  and 
sharp  that  it  pierced  through  sheepskin  and 
homespun  and  laid  its  icy  fingers  on  her  skin. 
And  although  she  did  not  heed  such  trifles,  she 
felt  her  toes  grow  stiff  inside  her  waxed  boots 
and  her  fingers  numb  in  the  woollen  gloves, 
whilst  her  ears  tingled  under  her  kerchief.  But, 
heedless  of  all,  on  she  went  right  down  the  long 
hill-side.  When  she  reached  the  valley  she 
stopped  and  waited  for  the  others. 

When  at  last  they  came  in  sight  she  went  to 
meet  them. 

It  would  certainly,  she  said,  be  best  to  turn 
and  go  home  again,  it  was  quite  impossible  to 
get  on  to  Nugord. 

But  now  Mother  was  angry  and  Little-Lad  as 
well.  They  said  to  themselves  that  this  young 
lass  was  not  going  to  order  them  about,  and 
say  when  they  were  to  go  forward  and  when 
back. 

"  No,"  said  Mother,  "  we  are  not  going  back 
to  suit  you.  Since  you  are  so  anxious  for  your 
Christmas  feast,  you  can  just  trudge  on  for  it." 

"  Yes,"  said  Little-Lad,  "  you  can  have  wind 
enough  blown  into  you  to  last  you  for  many  a 
week." 


The  Storm-wind  7 

And  with  that  Mother  and  Little-Lad  began 
to  walk  on,  leaving  Little-Maid  to  come  after 
as  best  she  might. 

When  they  came  down  to  Uvgorden  they  met 
Gipsy-Lotta  and  Beggar- Jon.  And  these  two 
who  roamed  about  the  district,  week-day  and 
Sunday,  in  fair  and  foul  weather,  put  their 
hands  to  their  mouths  like  a  trumpet,  and 
shouted  to  them  to  go  home  for  any  sake,  or 
they  would  be  frozen  to  death  down  by  the  cold 
lake-side. 

Mother  and  Little-Lad  went  on,  however. 
They  were  still  angry  with  Little-Maid,  and  de- 
termined that  she  should  feel  right  well  what  sort 
of  weather  it  was. 

They  met  Erik  of  Falla's  horse  coming  along 
with  an  empty  sledge  behind  him,  for  Erik's 
hat  had  blown  off,  and  whilst  he  was  running 
across  fields,  climbing  over  fences  and  creeping 
along  ditches  to  catch  it  again,  his  horse  had 
grown  tired  of  standing  in  the  wind,  and  trotted 
off  home. 

But  Mother  and  Little-Lad  looked  as  though 
there  was  nothing  wonderful  in  that,  and 
trudged  on  and  on.  Away  they  struggled,  until 
they  reached  the  top  of  Broby  Hill.  But  then 
they  came  upon  a  great  crowd  of  people  standing 
with  sledges  and  horses  and  unable  to  get  on 
farther.  For  the  great  Broby  pine,  tall  enough 
to  be  seen  for  miles  around,  had  been  blown 
down  and  lay  across  the  road.  And  there  stood 
Gullosa-Jan  and  Kringosa-Britta,  who  were  to 
have  been  wedded  that  day  in  Bro  Church. 
And  there  stood  old  Jan  Jansa  of  Gullosa  and 


8  Liliecrona's  Home 

old  Mother  from  Kringosa,  friends  and  relatives, 
Player- Jons  and  beautiful  Gunnar  of  Hogsjo, 
and  many  another  who  was  going  to  the 
wedding. 

They  shouted  and  explained  that  twice  before 
their  road  had  been  stopped  by  overblown 
trees.  Those  they  had  managed  to  move,  but 
there  was  no  doing  anything  with  this  one. 
And  old  Father  from  Gullosa  went  round 
offering  brandy,  but  that  didn't  bring  them  on 
any  farther.  And  the  bride  had  got  out  of  her 
sledge  and  stood  there  crying  over  the  diffi- 
culties that  had  barred  her  way  to  church.  And 
the  wind  tore  the  red  muslin  roses  and  green 
silk  leaves  from  the  edge  of  her  dress,  so  that 
travellers  who,  later  in  the  day,  came  through 
the  parish,  could  think  no  other  than  that 
the  storm-wind  had  found  a  wild  rose  bush 
in  some  fairy  forest,  and  carried  off  its  flowers 
and  leaves  to  scatter  them  over  ditch  and 
field. 

But  Mother  and  Little-Lad  did  not  stop  for 
any  pine  tree  across  the  road,  but  crept  under 
and  went  steadily  on.  They  considered  that 
Little-Maid  had  not  had  enough  of  the  storm 
by  a  long  way  yet.  And  just  think  ;  they  went 
on  to  the  cross-roads  and  Broby  inn. 

There  they  met  Madam  Samzelius  driving 
along  in  her  covered  sledge  drawn  by  two 
horses.  Then  indeed  they  realised  what  the 
storm  must  be,  when  Madam  Samzelius,  who 
never  heeded  the  weather,  had  a  roof  above 
her.  She  shook  her  fist  at  them  as  she  cried, 
"Be  off  home,  Marit  of  Koltorp.  What  are 


The  Storm-wind  9 

you  doing  out  with  your  young  ones,  when  even 
I  have  to  drive  under  cover  ?  ' 

But  Mother  and  Little-Lad  thought  Little- 
Maid  might  still  be  the  better  of  another  buffet 
or  two  from  the  storm-wind. 

When  they  came  to  the  narrow  sound 
between  Upper  and  Middle  Loven,  they  had  to 
crawl  on  all  fours  the  whole  length  of  the 
bridge.  For  the  wind  was  so  terrible  here  that, 
if  they  had  tried  to  walk  across,  they  would  have 
certainly  been  blown  into  the  water  below. 

Once  over  the  bridge  they  were  half-way, 
and  Little-Maid  really  began  to  think  they  would 
be  at  the  Christmas  feast.  But  no  sooner  had 
the  thought  come,  than  a  fresh  difficulty 
arose.  The  biting  cold  on  the  bridge  had  quite 
finished  Little-Lad.  He  was  like  a  lump  of 
ice.  He  threw  himself  down  on  the  ground  and 
refused  to  stir  another  step.  Mother  snatched 
him  up  and  ran  off  to  the  nearest  cottage. 
Little-Maid  was  so  terrified  as  she  followed 
Mother  into  the  cottage  that  she  scarcely  knew 
what  she  did.  For  if  Little-Lad  was  frozen  to 
death  it  was  her  fault.  But  for  her,  Mother  and 
he  would  certainly  have  turned  and  gone  home 
again. 

They  had  come  to  a  cottage  belonging  to 
people  who  were  kindness  itself.  They  said  at 
once  that  it  would  never  do  for  the  strangers  to 
leave  them  again  until  the  wind  had  fallen  a 
little,  and  added  that  it  was  the  hand  of  God 
that  had  led  them  there.  For  if  they  had  gone 
on  to  the  Parsonage  lands,  they  must  most 
certainly  have  all  three  been  frozen  to  death. 


io  Liliecrona's  Home 

It  seemed  as  though  Mother  too  was  glad  to 
be  under  shelter.  She  sat  there  so  contentedly, 
and  looked  as  if  she  had  quite  forgotten  that 
down  in  Nugord  they  were  just  busy  turning  the 
spits,  and  skimming  the  fat  off  the  great  pots  of 
boiling  meat. 

When  the  cottage-folk  were  tired  of  saying 
what  a  good  thing  it  was  they  had  stopped  there, 
they  began  to  ask  why  they  had  gone  out  in 
such  a  tempest.  Perhaps  they  had  meant  to  go 
to  church  ? 

Then  Mother  told  them  that  they  had  wanted 
to  go  to  Per  Jansa's  in  Nugord.  He  was  her 
brother-in-law,  although  he  was  as  rich  as  her 
husband  had  been  poor.  Every  Christmas  he 
had  a  feast,  and  she — his  sister-in-law — was  of 
course  invited.  She  had  indeed  thought  it  was 
terrible  weather  to  go  in,  but  this  was  the  only 
festivity  they  ever  had  the  chance  of  the  whole 
year  through. 

The  cottage-folk  were  troubled  again  when 
they  heard  that.  It  was  indeed  a  pity  that 
Mother  could  not  get  to  Per  Jansa's  party,  such 
a  fine  one  as  it  was  too.  But  there,  it  was  quite 
impossible  to  go  out  again  in  the  storm — it  was 
only  risking  one's  life. 

Mother  agreed  that  it  was  impossible,  and 
looked  as  if  she  did  not  mind  at  all  sitting  in  a 
poor  cottage,  when  there  were  so  many  good 
things  waiting  for  her  somewhere  else. 

"  If  you  hadn't  the  children  with  you,"  said 
the  cottage-folk,  "  perhaps  you  could  manage 
to  struggle  down  there." 

Mother  agreed  with  that  too.    No  doubt  she 


The  Storm- wind  n 

would  have  got  to  the  feast,  if  she  had  not  had 
the  children  with  her.  But  she  couldn't  take 
them  out  again  in  such  weather. 

No  ;  there  was  no  help  for  it,  they  agreed. 
They  thought  it  was  such  a  pity,  they  said, 
and  it  was  easy  to  see  how  sorry  they  really 
were. 

Then  all  at  once  the  good-wife  had  a  very 
happy  thought.  "  Look  at  that  now,"  said  she. 
"  Why,  of  course,  you  can  leave  the  children 
with  us  if  you  want  to  go." 

How  pleased  they  were,  both  husband  and 
wife  !  They  could  not  understand  how  they  had 
not  thought  of  it  before. 

At  first  Mother  objected  a  little,  but  she  soon 
gave  way.  It  was  agreed  that  the  children 
should  stay  the  whole  day  and  over  the  night 
as  well,  but  next  morning  Mother  was  to  come 
back  and  fetch  them. 

Then  Mother  went,  and  there  sat  Little-Maid. 
Now  there  was  indeed  an  end  of  her  going  to 
the  Christmas  dinner,  that  she  saw. 

But  it  would  have  been  no  use  to  say  anything 
about  wanting  to  go  with  Mother,  for  they  had 
hit  upon  such  kind  folk  that  they  would  never 
have  let  her  go  away.  And  besides,  they  could 
not  both  have  left  Little-Lad  either. 

The  cottage-folk  tried  to  talk  to  her  and  cheer 
her  up,  but  she  could  not  answer  a  word.  She 
turned  her  back  to  them  and  stood  by  the 
window  looking  at  one  or  two  birches  swaying 
backwards  and  forwards  in  the  storm.  So  many 
things  she  wished  as  she  stood  there.  And  one 
was  that  the  tempest  would  take  a  real  good 


12  Liliecrona's  Home 

hold  of  the  cottage  and  blow  it  down,  so  that 
she  might  get  out. 

But,  but It  began  to  look  rather  strange. 

Whilst  she  stood  looking  at  the  birches,  she 
thought  that  every  minute  they  seemed  to 
sway  less  violently.  The  din  and  racket  too, 
which  had  come  with  the  storm,  seemed  less, 
and  there  were  no  more  sticks  and  straws  flying 
about.  She  scarcely  knew  if  she  dared  believe 
her  eyes,  but  now  it  was  so  quiet  that  really  and 
truly  the  long  hanging  branches  of  the  birches 
only  quivered  very  little. 

The  cottage-folk  sat  chatting  to  Little-Lad, 
and  never  noticed  anything  until  Little-Maid 
told  them  that  the  storm  was  at  an  end. 

They  were  so  astonished,  and  at  once  said 
what  a  pity  it  was  it  had  not  stopped  sooner,  so 
that  the  children  could  have  gone  to  the 
Christmas  feast.  For  it  was  no  fun  for  children 
to  be  sitting  there  with  them  all  day,  that  they 
could  understand. 

Then  Little-Maid  said  that,  if  need  be,  she 
could  take  Little-Lad  with  her  and  go  to 
Nugord.  It  was  a  plain  road,  so  she  could  not 
miss  the  way,  and  there  couldn't  be  any  danger, 
either,  in  broad  daylight. 

They  were  really  such  kind  folk !  They 
wouldn't  vex  any  living  creature,  so  they  let 
them  go,  both  Little-Maid  and  Little-Lad. 

Now  everything  was  all  right.  The  weather 
was  fine  and  calm,  it  was  easy  walking,  and  there 
was  no  one  to  order  Little-Maid  to  sit  still,  or 
turn  back  when  she  wanted  to  go  on.  Still, 
there  was  just  one  thing  that  made  her  uneasy. 


The  Storm-wind  13 

The  sun  seemed  to  be  sinking  so  quickly  in 
the  southern  sky.  She  did  not  know  what  time 
it  was,  but  fancy  if  it  were  so  late  that  they 
were  already  sitting  down  to  dinner  in  Nugord  ! 

She  still  had  six  whole  miles  to  walk.  Just 
fancy  if  she  only  got  there  in  time  for  empty 
saucepans  and  bare  bones  ! 

Little-Lad  was  only  seven  years  old,  so 
couldn't  get  along  dreadfully  quickly.  He  was 
tired,  and  dispirited  too,  after  all  he  had  gone 
through  that  day. 

When  they  stood  in  the  hollow  at  the  foot  of 
Hedeby  Hill,  Little-Maid  stopped  and  looked  at 
Loven  which  lay  below  covered  with  hard, 
shining  ice. 

She  asked  if  Little-Lad  remembered  when 
Mother  had  come  home  and  said  that  Loven 
was  frozen.  She  had  been  so  amazed  that  the 
lake  was  covered  with  ice  before  Christmas 
that  she  had  talked  of  nothing  else  all  evening. 
'  Yes,  that  was  two  days  before  Christmas 
Eve,"  said  Lit  tie -Lad.  He  was  certain  of 
that. 

"  Then  it  has  been  frozen  four  full  days," 
answered  Little-Maid.  "  I  am  sure  and  certain 
it  is  strong  enough  to  bear  us  now/' 

Little-Lad  plucked  up  heart  again  as  soon  as 
he  understood  that  she  was  talking  about  going 
on  the  lake. 

"  We  can  slide  all  the  way  to  Nugord,"  he 
screamed. 

"Well,  of  course,"  said  Little-Maid,  "it 
would  be  quite  handy  to  go  that  way,  as 
Nugord  lies  on  the  bank  " 


14  Liliecrona's  Home 

She  had  her  doubts  too,  but  now  it  was 
Little-Lad  who  insisted.  He  wouldn't  hear  a 
word  of  the  high  road,  and  was  for  marching 
straight  off  to  the  lake. 

"  You  must  tell  Mother  you  would  do  it," 
said  Little-Maid,  "  for  she  is  never  cross  with 
you." 

It  was  not  far  down  to  the  lake,  and  they  were 
soon  standing  on  the  ice.  They  took  hands  and 
slid  down  Loven.  That  was  better  than 
trudging  along  the  high  road.  In  that  fashion 
there  wasn't  much  doubt  that  they  would  get 
to  Nugord  before  the  great  Christmas  dinner 
was  finished. 

But  then  Little-Maid  heard  a  roar,  and  a  rush 
behind  her — a  roar  she  recognised  only  too  well. 
She  didn't  need  to  give  even  one  look  to  know 
what  it  was  when  she  felt  it  in  the  back  of 
her  neck — that  terrible  storm  beginning  once 
more. 

It  seemed  as  though  it  had  only  kept  quiet 
just  to  tempt  the  children  out  on  the  ice.  And 
now  it  came,  took  hold  of  them  and  threw  them 
down. 

When  once  the  wind  had  begun  again,  it 
was  utterly  impossible  for  them  to  go  on  the  lake. 
They  could  not  even  keep  on  their  feet.  There 
was  nothing  for  it  but  to  creep  on  to  the  land 
again. 

Now  indeed  it  looked  as  if  Little-Maid  were 
conquered  at  last.  She  had  brought  them  to 
such  a  pass  that  it  seemed  very  doubtful 
if  they  would  ever  see  a  human  face  again. 
They  could  not  go  on  the  lake,  and  when  they 


The  Storm-wind  15 

got  to  the  land  there  was  nothing  but  sheer 
mountain-side,  and  dense  forest  with  never  a 
path  to  be  seen. 

And  Little-Lad  was  so  tired  and  downhearted 
over  everything  that  he  could  do  nothing  but 
cry.  Little-Maid  too  for  a  time  stood  quite 
still  on  the  shore  with  a  crestfallen  look  on  her 
face. 

Soon,  however,  she  remembered  how  she  and 
Little-Lad  used  to  coast  down  the  hill-side  at 
home,  when  it  was  covered  with  ice.  So  she 
began  at  once  to  break  off  pine  branches  and 
lay  them  together  in  two  heaps.  On  one  she 
set  Little-Lad,  and  then  knelt  down  and  pushed 
him  and  the  two  pine  heaps  on  to  the  ice  again. 
When  they  got  out  where  the  wind  was  strongest 
she  seated  herself  on  the  other  heap,  and  she  and 
Little-Lad  each  took  a  fine  green  bough  in  their 
hands  and  held  them  up  against  the  wind. 

"  Hurrah  !  "  said  the  storm-wind,  "  hurrah  !  " 
it  shouted.  Down  it  rushed  upon  them,  and 
swung  them  to  one  side  as  if  it  wanted  to  see 
if  it  was  as  strong  as  they. 

Then  it  got  a  good  firm  hold,  and  away  they 
went — on  and  on  like  the  wind  itself.  They 
never  even  felt  its  icy  breath ;  they  could 
almost  have  believed  they  were  sitting  still,  if 
they  had  not  seen  the  shores  rushing  past. 

Little-Lad  screamed  with  joy,  but  Little- 
Maid  sat  with  set  mouth  watching  if  any  fresh 
difficulty  was  going  to  come  between  her  and 
the  Christmas  dinner.  It  was  the  quickest 
journey  she  had  ever  made,  for  it  was  but  a 
few  moments  before  they  saw  the  great  Nugord 


1 6  Liliecrona's  Home 

houses  rising  before  them  on  the  shores  of  the 
bay. 

The  people  of  Nugord  caught  sight  of  them, 
just  as  they  were  going  in  to  dinner,  and  they 
were  obliged  to  run  out  and  see  what  wonderful 
thing  it  was  tearing  down  the  lake.  And  no 
words  can  describe  the  amazement  of  Per  Jansa, 
of  Per  Jansa's  wife,  of  the  Pastor  and  all  the 
guests,  when  they  saw  them.  The  only  person 
who  did  not  look  particularly  astonished  was 
Mother.  "  The  lass  doesn't  give  in  before  she 
gets  her  will,"  she  said.  "  I  have  been  expect- 
ing all  the  time  to  see  her  come  flying  along  on 
a  broom-handle." 

But  the  others  talked  of  nothing  else  all 
evening  but  the  Little-Maid  and  of  what  a 
capable  woman  she  would  be. 

Mother  sat  for  a  long  time  on  the  sofa  beside 
the  Pastor's  wife  telling  all  about  her.  She  was 
not  so  bad  at  spinning,  young  as  she  was  ;  she 
could  card  wool  too,  and  all  last  summer  she 
had  picked  berries  and  sold  them  in  Helgesater. 
Then  the  Captain's  wife  had  given  her  an  A  B  C 
book,  and  one  of  the  young  ladies  of  Helgesater 
had  helped  her  a  little,  so  that  now  she  could 
both  read  and  write. 

The  Pastor  of  Svartsjo  had  been  a  widower 
for  many  years,  but  that  summer  he  had  married 
again.  His  new  wife  was  a  little  body  with 
quite  white  hair,  but  with  a  good  complexion 
and  an  un wrinkled  face.  There  was  no  one  who 
dared  to  guess  her  age.  She  was  reported  to  be 
a  wonderful  manager,  and  folks  said  too  that 
she  could  tell  at  first  sight  what  anyone  was 


The  Storm- wind  17 

capable  of.  Now  this  new  wife  told  Mother 
that  she  had  been  thinking  for  some  time  of 
taking  a  young  girl  into  the  house  to  wait  on 
her  stepdaughter,  so  that  the  housemaid  could 
get  more  time  for  weaving.  She  asked  Mother 
if  she  would  have  any  objection  to  letting 
Little-Maid  come  to  the  Parsonage  next  autumn. 

Any  objection  indeed  !  What  a  question  ! 
Mother  could  not  imagine  any  better  fortune 
for  Little-Maid  than  to  go  to  service  in  Lovdala. 

All  evening  the  Pastor's  wife  sat  and  followed 
Little-Maid  with  her  eyes.  It  seemed  as  though 
she  could  think  of  no  one  else. 

After  a  time  she  beckoned  to  Mother  again. 

"Is  it  true,"  she  asked,  "  that  the  child  can 
read  and  write  ?  '; 

Mother  assured  her  that  it  v:as  true  enough. 
'  Well,  then,  we  will  arrange  for  her  to  come 
to  the  Parsonage  at  once,"  said  the  Pastor's 
wife.  "  You  can  pass  Lovdala  when  you  go 
home  to-morrow  from  this  Christmas  feast,  and 
leave  her  on  your  way." 

And  so  it  was  arranged. 

But  the  Pastor's  wife  still  sat,  after  as  before, 
looking  at  Little-Maid  as  though  she  could  not 
keep  her  eyes  off  her.  After  a  little  she  wanted 
to  speak  once  more  to  Marit  of  Koltorp. 

"  What  is  your  daughter's  name  ?  "  she 
asked. 

'  Well,  her  name  is  Eleonora,  but  we  always 
call  her  Nora." 

"  And  it  is  really  true  that  she  can  read  and 
write — not  just  an  idle  boast  ?  "  said  the  Pastor's 
wife. 


1 8  Liliecrona's  Home 

"No,"  Mother  told  her;  "it  is  the  honest 
truth." 

"  I  have  been  thinking  she  might  as  well 
drive  home  with  us  in  our  sledge  to-night," 
said  the  Pastor's  wife.  '  We  are  just  wanting 
a  girl  like  her  at  Lovdala,  so  she  may  as  well 
begin  her  work  at  once." 

It  was  settled  as  the  Pastor's  wife  wished,  of 
course.  She  was  not  a  woman  that  people 
cared  to  contradict. 


CHAPTER  II 

THE   SPINNING-WHEELS 

THE  tall  old  grandfather's  clock  which 
stood  in  the  kitchen  bedroom  at  Lovdala 
struck  six  with  a  rattle,  as  though  the  heavy 
weights  were  crashing  into  the  nethermost 
depths,  and  woke  Little-Maid,  as  she  lay 
sleeping  on  three  chairs,  the  insecure  bed  that 
had  been  hastily  arranged  for  her  late  the  night 
before. 

She  sprang  out  of  bed  with  a  scream,  and 
rushed  into  the  middle  of  the  room.  She  had 
been  dreaming  that  she  was  in  her  coffin,  and 
was  just  going  to  be  buried  with  the  church  bells 
tolling  above  her.  But  as  her  feet  touched  the 
cold  floor  she  became  at  once  fully  awake. 
Supposing  there  was  anyone  in  the  room  to  hear 
how  she  had  screamed  ?  How  the  Parsonage 
maids  would  laugh  if  they  found  out  she  had 
been  afraid  of  the  clock.  She  did  not  under- 
stand why  she  had  been  frightened,  for,  although 
they  had  no  clocks  at  Koltorp,  yet  in  Nugord 
there  were  striking  clocks  both  in  the  large 
sitting-room  and  in  the  little  bedroom,  so  that 
it  was  no  new  sound  to  her. 

It  was  not  quite  dark  in  the  bedroom.  A 
couple  of  small  logs  of  wood  were  burning  in 

19 


2O  Liliecrona's  Home 

the  stove  in  the  far  corner,  so  that  she  could 
see  a  little.  No,  there  was  no  one  else  in  the 
room.  The  narrow  wooden  couch  where  Mam- 
sell  Maia  Lisa,  the  Pastor's  daughter,  had  been 
lying  when  she  came  the  night  before,  was  not 
only  empty,  but  made  up  for  the  day. 

But  if  Mamsell  Maia  Lisa  was  up,  it  was  high 
time  she  dressed  too. 

She  put  a  piece  of  wood  on  the  fire  ;  if  it 
would  only  burn  up  brightly  enough  to  let  her 
find  her  shoes,  stockings,  and  other  garments, 
she  would  soon  be  ready. 

How  strange  it  was  to  be  here,  dressing  herself 
in  the  kitchen  bedroom  of  the  Parsonage,  the 
very  same  Lovdala  where  her  Mother  had  been 
nursemaid  before  she  married  Father.  She 
wondered  if  she  would  ever  love  it  as  much  as 
Mother  had  done. 

There  was  no  one  in  the  world — except,  of 
course,  Little-Lad — whom  Mother  loved  so 
dearly  as  the  Pastor's  daughter.  She  spoke  of 
her  as  if  she  were  a  princess. 

The  Pastor's  daughter  was  so  beautiful  that 
when  she  went  out  riding  or  driving  people  left 
their  work  and  stood  near  the  garden  just  to 
look  at  her. 

The  Pastor  was  a  person  of  great  importance 
in  the  parish,  but  he  used  to  say  that  no  one 
thought  much  of  him  in  comparison  with  his 
daughter.  He  was  an  outsider,  but  she  was 
one  of  the  family  who  had  been  Pastors  there 
for  a  hundred  years,  and  it  was  she  alone 
who  would  inherit  Lovdala  and  the  parish  as 
well.  -*'• 


The  Spinning-wheels  21 

It  had  almost  irritated  Little-Maid  to  hear 
so  much  about  the  Pastor's  daughter.  It  had 
almost  seemed  as  though  no  one  else  was  of  any 
account  where  she  was  concerned.  At  any  rate, 
it  would  be  nice  to  have  the  chance  of  seeing 
her  now. 

If  only  she  knew  what  the  humming  was  that 
she  heard  as  she  dressed.  Could  it  be  yesterday's 
tempest  still  in  her  ears  ?  or  had  the  storm  be- 
gun to  rage  again  ?  Yet  what  she  heard  was 
not  so  much  like  wind  as  the  steady  hum  of  a 
mill. 

At  last  she  was  dressed  and  opened  the 
kitchen  door. 

No  wonder  it  had  hummed  ! 

The  whole  kitchen  was  full  of  spinning- 
wheels  and  spinners — wheels  and  spinners,  one 
behind  the  other  until  she  could  see  no  end  to 
them. 

She  turned  so  dizzy  that  she  had  to  stop  a 
moment  on  the  threshold.  Three  spinning- 
wheels  going  at  once  in  a  room  were  the  most 
she  had  ever  seen  before.  But  however  many 
were  there  here  ?  She  wondered  if  she  would  be 
able  to  count  them. 

It  was  so  dark,  too,  in  the  kitchen  that  it  was 
no  easy  matter  to  make  things  out.  A  few 
resinous,  knotty  pieces  of  juniper  root  were 
burning  in  an  iron  basket  hanging  from  a  tall 
iron  pole  rising  from  the  hearth,  and  that  was 
all.  And  not  only  the  bad  light  made  it  difficult 
to  see,  but  spinners  and  wheels  alike  were  half 
hidden  in  the  cloud  of  dust  rising  from  their 
work. 


22  Liliecrona's  Home 

Never,  however,  had  she  seen  such  a  sight. 
As  she  stood  looking  upon  the  spinning-wheels 
with  their  treadles  and  spindles,  and  upon  the 
busy  hands  and  fingers,  she  grew  more  and  more 
dizzy. 

To  master  her  thoughts  she  began  to  ask 
herself  questions  as  her  Mother  had  advised 
her. 

"  How  many  skeins  of  yarn  are  spun  in  this 
kitchen  every  single  morning  ?  And  how  many 
bundles  of  skeins  are  already  hanging  in  the 
garret  ?  And  how  many  looms  would  have 
to  be  started  in  the  spring  to  weave  up  all  the 
yarn  ?  And  how  many  lengths  of  linen  would 
have  to  be  laid  out  afterwards  to  bleach  ?  And 
how  many " 

There  now,  the  dizzy  feeling  had  gone. 

She  could  venture  to  step  in  now  amongst  the 
spinning-wheels. 

There  were  not  such  a  terrible  number  as 
she  had  thought  at  first,  although  there  were 
not  very  few  either.  They  stood  in  a  long  ir- 
regular line  from  the  chimney,  right  away  to 
the  door. 

Nearest  the  chimney  and  the  glimmer  of 
light  sat  the  Pastor's  wife,  spinning  fine  white 
cotton  on  a  wheel  inlaid  with  yellow.  Behind 
her  sat  someone  whom  she  could  guess  was  the 
old  housekeeper  that  Mother  used  to  talk  about, 
with  a  spinning-wheel  painted  red  and  green. 
Beyond  her  sat  five  young  girls — cook,  house- 
maid, kitchenmaid,  dairymaid,  and  brewhouse 
maid — all  spinning  fine  linen  yarn  on  ordinary, 
unpainted  wheels.  Still  farther  off  sat  a  crofter- 


The  Spinning-wheels  23 

woman,  with  a  humpback,  spinning  light  blue 
yarn  on  a  poor  old  wheel.  And  farthest  away  of 
all,  down  by  the  kitchen  door,  in  the  cold 
draught  from  the  passage,  and  in  almost  utter 
darkness,  there  was  still  one  more  spinner. 
She  had  a  wheel  with  three  of  its  spokes  gone, 
the  string  was  full  of  knots,  the  treadle  out  of 
order,  and  she  was  spinning  coarse  flax  so  rough 
and  full  of  bits  that  anywhere  else  it  would  not 
have  been  thought  worth  using.  But  the  spinner 
sitting  there  seemed  to  spin  it  as  easily  and 
quickly  as  the  others  their  fine  flax. 

Who  this  might  be  Little-Maid  could  not 
imagine.  Surely  someone  who  had  come  to  the 
Parsonage  as  a  learner. 

"  You  poor  thing,"  she  thought,  "  you  have  a 
bad  time  of  it ;  you  are  evidently  in  the  Pastor- 
wife's  black  books." 

There  were  no  more  than  these  in  the  kitchen, 
and  she  couldn't  imagine  what  had  made  her 
think  there  were  such  an  endless  number. 

They  all  of  them  did  nothing  but  spin  and 
spin.  Mother  used  to  sing  or  tell  tales  whilst  she 
worked,  but  not  one  of  these  ever  opened  her 
lips. 

The  Pastor's  wife  beckoned  to  Little-Maid. 
She  was  to  hand  her  carded  cotton  out  of  a 
basket  on  the  floor  to  save  her  having  to 
stoop. 

And  this  Little-Maid  did  for  ever  so  long. 
The  wheels  hummed,  treadles  went,  and  spindles 
flew  round.  She  began  to  grow  dizzy  once  more, 
and  was  obliged  to  steady  her  brain  again  by 
asking  the  same  useful  questions. 


24  Liliecrona's  Home 

"  How  many  skeins  of  yarn  can  they  spin  here 
in  a  single  morning  ?  And  how  many  bundles 
of  skeins  are  already " 

But  how  was  it  she  had  not  yet  caught  sight 
of  the  Pastor's  daughter  ?  Surely  she  would  be 
sitting  there  spinning,  as  well  as  the  Pastor's 
wife.  But  perhaps  it  was  almost  foolish  to 
expect  to  find  her  spinning  with  the  maids. 
She  was  too  fine  for  that,  of  course,  such  a 
dainty  little  lady  as  she  was. 

Why,  she  was  to  inherit  Lovdala  and  all  the 
parish  as  well.  No  doubt  she  was  sitting  on  the 
parlour  sofa,  embroidering  flowers  on  a  piece  of 
silk. 

Stay,  what  was  wrong  now  ?  There  was 
certainly  someone  doing  what  they  shouldn't, 
for  the  Pastor's  wife  kept  turning  her  head  time 
after  time  towards  the  door. 

Time  had  crept  on  now  so  far  that  it  was 
getting  light.  The  grey  dawn  came  creeping  in 
through  the  tiny  window-panes. 

Even  right  down  the  room,  where  Little-Maid 
was  standing,  she  could  see  that  the  spinner 
sitting  nearest  the  door  had  left  off  working. 
She  was  not  asleep,  but  sitting  with  her  hand 
on  her  wheel,  gazing  before  her.  But  she 
did  not  seem  to  see  what  was  passing  in  the 
room. 

And  certainly  she  did  not  know  that  the 
Pastor's  wife  had  noticed  that  her  spinning- 
wheel  had  stopped. 

What  a  gentle,  bright  face  that  far-away 
spinner  had,  and  what  great  serious  blue  eyes  ! 
She  did  not  look  as  though  she  could  have 


The  Spinning-wheels  25 

stopped  from  idleness,  but  only  because  she 
was  obliged  to  sit  still  and  think. 

But  every  moment  that  passed  the  Pastor's 
wife  set  her  mouth  harder  and  harder,  until 
she  looked  so  stern  that  Little-Maid  felt  afraid 
of  her. 

Now  she  stopped  her  wheel  too,  and  stood 
up.  And  the  other  one  still  sat  quiet  and  never 
noticed  that  the  Pastor's  wife  was  making  her 
way  between  the  spinning-wheels  down  to  the 
door.  She  never  stirred  until  the  Pastor's  wife 
stood  over  her  and  laid  her  hand  on  her  neck. 
Then  she  uttered  a  little  cry  and  tried  to  free 
herself,  but  the  Pastor's  wife  had  taken  too  firm 
a  grasp  of  the  little  neck.  With  one  hand  she 
forced  her  back,  and  with  the  other  she  took  the 
bundle  of  coarse  flax  from  the  distaff,  pressed 
it  on  her  face,  and  scrubbed  it  round  and 
round. 

"  I  suppose  we  are  not  all  of  us  sitting  here 
working  for  you !  "  she  said  roughly,  in  a 
harsh  voice.  "  And  there  you  sit  and  go  to 
sleep." 

Little-Maid  all  but  cried  out  "  Never,  never  !  " 
Was  that  the  Pastor's  daughter  ?  But  it 
couldn't  be  anyone  else  that  they  were  all 
working  for. 

The  Pastor's  wife  gave  her  a  last  violent 
shake,  threw  the  bundle  of  flax  on  the  floor,  and 
went  back  to  her  place. 

But  at  the  same  moment  the  housekeeper 
and  the  five  maids  and  the  crofter-woman 
got  up  from  their  chairs  and  pushed  aside  their 
wheels. 


26  Liliecrona's  Home 

The  Pastor's  wife  turned  to  the  housekeeper 
with  an  astonished  look. 

"  I  think,"  said  the  housekeeper,  "  that 
Madam  knows  that  the  maids  are  not  required 
to  spin  whilst  the  Christmas  holiday  lasts,  but 
it  is  the  custom  for  us  to  have  the  time  to  our- 
selves and  for  our  own  work.  And  no  doubt 
Madam  knows  too,  that  if  we  were  to  go  and  ask 
the  Pastor,  he  would  say  we  were  to  do  as  we 
have  always  done.  We  have  been  spinning 
all  the  morning  because  Mamsell  Maia  Lisa 
begged  us  to  do  as  Madam  wished  ;  but  now  we 
stop,  for  we  can  see  that  whatever  is  done 
Madam  treats  her  just  as  badly  as  ever." 

When  that  was  said,  the  housekeeper  with  all 
five  maids  and  the  crofter-woman  picked  up  the 
spinning-wheels  to  carry  them  out  of  the 
kitchen. 

But  the  Pastor's  wife  stepped  quickly  up  to 
the  door. 

"  Not  a  single  spinning-wheel  goes  out  of  the 
kitchen  with  my  consent,"  she  said. 

But  the  housekeeper  went  up  to  her  without 
hesitation,  for  she  felt  she  had  right  on  her 
side.  It  looked  as  though  something  dreadful 
would  happen  in  another  minute. 

But  instead  something  quite  unforeseen  took 
place. 

The  Pastor's  wife  glanced  round  about,  as 
though  to  see  if  anyone  would  help  her.  Her 
eyes  fell  on  Little-Maid,  and  when  she  saw  how 
the  child  stood  staring  at  her  in  an  agony  of 
fear,  as  if  she  saw  an  evil  spirit,  she  was  trans- 
formed in  a  moment. 


The  Spinning-wheels  27 

She  went  away  from  the  door  just  as  the 
housekeeper  had  come  within  a  yard  of  it. 

"  Fair  is  fair/'  she  said.  "  If,  as  Kaisa  says, 
it  is  the  custom  for  you  to  have  a  holiday  at 
Christmas,  you  can  have  it  this  year  too. 
But  you  might  have  explained  civilly  and  not 
been  so  insolent." 

"  We  can  remember  that  next  time,"  an- 
swered the  housekeeper  sullenly. 

There  was  no  time  for  more,  for  a  little  bell 
was  heard  ringing  through  the  house. 

'  There's  the  Pastor  ringing  for  morning 
prayers,"  said  the  housekeeper.  "  We  must  put 
away  the  spinning-wheels  later." 

They  all  went  towards  the  hall  door,  but 
Little-Maid  stood  as  if  she  could  not  stir. 
"  How  could  it  be  the  Pastor's  daughter  sitting 
away  there  by  the  door,  spinning  that  coarse 
flax  ?  It  was  a  crying  sin  and  shame.  If  only 
Mother  knew  of  it !  " 

The  maids  tramped  out  in  a  long  row,  and 
the  kitchen  was  empty,  when  the  Pastor's 
daughter,  who  went  last,  turned  and  held  out 
her  hand. 

"  You  must  come  to  morning  prayers  too." 
What  a  gentle  voice  she  had,  and  what  a  pretty, 
soft  little  hand  !  Little-Maid  put  hers  in  it, 
rather  shyly  at  first,  but  as  they  walked  across 
the  hall  she  clasped  her  fingers  tighter  and 
tighter.  When  they  reached  the  door  to  the 
Pastor's  room  the  Pastor's  daughter  bent  down 
to  Little-Maid. 

"  I  hear  you  are  the  daughter  of  Marit,  my 
old  nurse." 


28  Liliecrona's  Home 

"  Yes,"  said  Little-Maid,  "  and  I  have  come 
here  to  help  you." 

The  Pastor's  daughter  smiled. 

"  Yes,  little  one,"  she  said  ;  "  indeed  I  need 
someone  badly  enough  to  help  me." 


CHAPTER   III 

THE   BLACK  LAKE 

ALL  five  maids  were  sitting  with  their 
thimbles  on  and  needle  and  thread  on  the 
table  beside  them,  mending  old  clothes.  It 
was  evident  that,  like  tailors,  they  preferred  a 
high  seat  for  sewing,  for  all  five  of  them  were 
perched  up  on  the  high  table-benches.  Only 
the  old  housekeeper  was  sitting  on  a  chair. 

Little-Maid  was  standing  at  the  window, 
looking  out.  Before  her  lay  a  great  courtyard 
with  cleared  paths  between  high  banks  of  snow. 
There  were  great  buildings  on  all  sides,  and 
Little-Maid  was  trying  from  her  mother's 
description  to  make  out  which  was  which. 
The  long,  low  house  exactly  opposite  the  main 
building  was,  no  doubt,  the  dairy;  the  stable 
lay  to  the  east,  and  the  brew-house  with  the 
room  belonging  to  it  on  the  west. 

The  houses  were  not  built  close  to  one  another, 
but  were  separated  by  a  fence,  so  that  the  only 
way  to  get  to  the  main  building  was  through  a 
narrow  gate  left  open  now  in  winter-time.  To 
the  east  of  the  stable  she  could  see  the  gables 
and  roofs  of  a  number  of  buildings,  standing 
round  another  and  still  larger  courtyard.  There 
was  the  sheep-house,  the  piggery,  the  larder, 

29 


30  Liliecrona's  Home 

and  the  storeroom,  the  lofts  for  rye  and  oats, 
the  barns  and  wood-house,  the  servants'  room, 
and  the  tool-sheds.  Several  of  the  buildings 
stood  on  piles,  others  had  steps  that  twisted  up 
the  walls  to  the  eaves,  where  they  crept  into  a 
low  garret.  Wherever  she  looked,  there  were 
annexes  and  extra  buildings,  garrets  with  small, 
dark  windows,  and  long,  cold  passages.  Most 
of  the  houses  had  thick  roofs  of  straw  or  turf, 
now  covered  with  another  of  heaped-up  snow. 
It  seemed  to  Little-Maid  as  though  they  were 
all  warmly  tucked  in  under  soft  rugs  and  furs. 
A  quiet  peace  reigned  over  everything  as  if 
the  old  houses  were  taking  their  winter  sleep. 

One  of  the  maids  was  new  and  came,  besides, 
from  another  parish.  So  she  thought  she  would 
make  use  of  this  quiet  hour  to  learn  something 
about  her  master  and  mistress.  She  had 
asked  question  after  question  about  the  Pastor's 
daughter  and  wife  as  well  as  the  Pastor  himself, 
but  never  an  answer  had  she  got.  All  the  others 
sat  with  tight-closed  lips  and  pretended  they 
knew  nothing. 

Possibly  she  noticed  at  last  that  she  could 
get  nothing  out  of  them,  for  now  she  began  to 
put  other  questions.  "  Why  is  this  parish 
called  Black  Lake  ?  "  She  could  not  under- 
stand how  it  got  its  name,  for,  although  she 
had  heard  that  there  were  three  lakes  in  Loven, 
she  knew  none  of  them  was  called  Black  Lake. 

Well,  there  was  no  harm  in  answering  this 
question,  but,  unfortunately,  none  of  the  maids 
knew  where  the  parish  had  got  its  name.  So 
it  seemed  as  though  she  was  not  going  to  get 


The  Black  Lake  3 1 

this  answered  either.  But  then  the  old  house- 
keeper put  down  her  work  and  took  her  spec- 
tacles off  her  nose. 

There  was  nothing  strange  in  the  name,  for 
the  parish  was  so  called  after  a  lake  which  used 
to  be  there  but  was  dried  up  now. 

The  new  maid  was  overjoyed  at  getting  an 
answer  at  last,  and  hastened  to  ask  where- 
abouts the  lake  had  lain. 

"  Well,  now,  it  is  said  to  have  lain  in  the 
valley  below  Lovdala,"  and  the  housekeeper 
turned  and  pointed  out  of  the  south  window. 
She  thought  the  water  had  reached  the  rising 
ground  before  the  brew-house.  At  any  rate 
there  was  fine  sand  there  like  the  sand  on  a 
lake-side. 

The  new  maid  turned  her  head,  too,  towards 
the  window.  The  dwelling-house  lay  on  fairly 
high  ground  and  the  houses  round  were  too 
low  to  shut  out  the  view.  Over  the  dairy  fence 
she  could  see  down  a  six-mile  valley  with  a 
grassy  bed  as  level  as  a  floor. 

But  she  would  not  believe  that  the  house- 
keeper really  meant  this  was  the  bed  of  an  old 
lake.  She  had  always  thought  the  ground 
would  be  a  steep  hollow  where  a  lake  had  once 
been. 

The  housekeeper  did  not  contradict  her. 
She  did  not  trouble  what  the  brew-house  maid 
thought.  She  had  only  spoken  of  what  she 
knew. 

And  with  this  she  put  her  glasses  on  and 
began  to  sew  again. 

The  new  maid  gave  a  scornful  sniff.    It  was 


32  Liliecrona's  Home 

a  strange  thing  that  old  folk  never  could  bear 
to  be  contradicted.  They  expected  people  to 
believe  whatever  they  took  a  fancy  to  say. 

None  of  the  other  maids  said  a  word  to  help 
the  housekeeper. 

The  kitchen  grew  quite  silent.  Little-Maid 
was  very  anxious  to  tell  what  she  knew  about 
this  Black  Lake,  but  she  was  not  sure  if  it 
would  be  fitting  for  her  to  join  in  the  con- 
versation. 

Then  the  bedroom  door  opened  and  Mamsell 
Maia  Lisa  came  out  into  the  kitchen. 

At  first  she  said  nothing,  but  stood  looking 
at  the  workers.  Then  she  went  up  to  Little- 
Maid,  who  still  kept  her  place  by  the  window. 

"  Tell  me,  Nora,"  she  said,  sitting  down  on 
the  wooden  chair  under  the  window  and 
taking  Little-Maid's  hand  in  both  of  hers, 
"  have  you  ever  travelled  far  enough  to  see 
any  other  lake  but  Loven  ?  '' 

Little-Maid  blushed  crimson  when  the  Pastor's 
daughter  spoke  to  her.  It  was  as  much  as  ever 
she  could  do  to  speak  above  a  whisper,  when 
she  answered  that  she  had  seen  more  lakes 
than  she  could  count. 

"  Then  do  me  the  favour  and  think  of  one 
of  them,"  said  the  Pastor's  daughter ;  "  which- 
ever you  like,  provided  it  is  long  and  narrow 
and  lies  between  two  long  lines  of  wooded 
hills." 

Little-Maid  dropped  her  chin  on  her  chest 
and  fixed  her  eyes  on  the  ground  ;  but  soon 
she  looked  up  again.  Now  she  had  thought 
of  one. 


The  Black  Lake  33 

There  was  mischief  in  the  glance  the  Pastor's 
daughter  gave  her,  but  her  voice  was  terribly 
serious  all  the  time. 

"  Do  you  see  it  quite  plainly  ?  "  she  asked. 
"  Do  you  see  a  gay  little  river  running  into  it 
from  the  north,  and  that  it  gets  narrower 
and  narrower  towards  the  south  until  there  is 
nothing  left  but  another  little  stream  ?  ''' 

Yes,  Little-Maid  saw  that. 

"  If  you  see  so  much,  no  doubt  you  see,  too, 
how  its  shores  go  out  and  in,  in  long  gulfs  and 
bays.  And  that  here  and  there  narrow  little 
headlands  jut  out,  covered  with  birches  over- 
hanging the  water.  And  small  stony  islands 
lie  out  in  its  channel,  overgrown  with  mountain- 
ash  and  wild  cherry  trees  that  are  as  gay  in 
their  spring  blossoms  as  any  royal  bride/' 

Yes,  indeed,  Little-Maid  saw  everything  that 
the  Pastor's  daughter  wanted  her  to  see. 

Mamsell  Maia  Lisa  looked  through  the  window 
down  the  long  valley.  Then  she  turned  to 
Little-Maid  smiling,  but  spoke  with  a  tone  in 
her  voice  as  if  she  wanted  her  to  remember  her 
words. 

"  If  you  see  so  much,  no  doubt  you  see,  too, 
that  on  one  side  there  is  a  sandy  shore,  generally 
full  of  children  who  bathe  the  whole  summer 
through,  and  at  another  spot  there  is  a  steep 
mountain-side  where  great  dark  pines  grow 
with  their  thick  roots  intertwined  like  snakes. 
And  farther  on,  the  shore  is  marshy  with  alder 
bushes  crowding  upon  each  other,  and  farther 
away  still  there  lie  beautiful  smooth  meadows 
with  cattle  grazing  in  them." 


34  Liliecrona's  Home 

Little-Maid  was  clever  enough  to  see  these 
too. 

"  If  you  see  so  much,  no  doubt  you  see,  too, 
the  great  stones  on  the  edge  of  the  shore  where 
people  stand  on  Sundays  to  fish  for  perch," 
said  the  Pastor's  daughter,  "  and  the  small 
oak  rods  lying  in  bundles  on  the  land,  and  the 
little  fisher  huts  standing  old  and  grey  out  on 
the  headlands." 

"  Yes,"  said  Little-Maid  ;  she  saw  that  and 
more. 

"  Yes,  if  you  see  that,  no  doubt  you  see,  too, 
that  the  whole  lake  is  encircled  by  peasant 
houses  with  their  fields  and  gardens,  but  they  are 
not  so  close  to  the  water  as  the  fisher  huts, 
but  lie  a  good  bit  inland.  Above  these  there 
lies  a  little  forest  clearing  and  a  few  birch  woods, 
but  then  the  mountain  is  covered  far  and  wide 
with  pine  forests  right  up  to  the  very  top." 

"  Yes,"  Little-Maid  saw  that  too. 

Now  the  pastor's  daughter  grew  thoughtful 
all  at  once. 

"  But  now  comes  the  hardest.  If,  one  fine 
day,  the  lake  that  you  have  thought  of  should 
dry  up  so  that  not  a  drop  of  water  was  left, 
what  do  you  think  the  place  would  look  like 
where  it  had  been  ?  ' 

But  that  was  beyond  Little-Maid.  She  only 
fixed  her  eyes  on  the  Pastor's  daughter. 

"  I  don't  know  exactly  either,"  said  the 
Pastor's  daughter,  "  but  I  fancy  that  after 
some  years  grass  would  grow  over  the  bed 
of  the  lake,  and  it  would  be  enclosed,  cultivated, 
divided,  and  marked  out  into  gardens  and  roads 


The  Black  Lake  35 

like  any  other  land ;  but  otherwise  it  would 
be  much  the  same  as  before." 

Little-Maid  stood  staring  in  front  of  her. 
She  looked  indeed  quite  lost. 

"  No  doubt  you  have  been  in  the  hall  at 
Helgesater  sometime,  and  seen  the  great  gilt 
mirror  hanging  between  the  windows.  The 
glass  was  broken  this  year  and  the  Captain 
could  not  put  a  new  one  in,  so  he  covered  the 
back  with  green  cloth.  But  the  gilt  frame  re- 
mained the  same.  There  was  only  this  differ- 
ence, that  there  was  no  longer  a  mirror  inside  it." 

Little-Maid  looked  up  quickly.  She  began 
to  understand. 

"So  it  was  no  doubt  with  the  lake  we  have 
been  talking  about,"  said  the  Pastor's  daughter. 
"  Everything  on  the  shore  remained  the  same, 
although  the  clear  water  which  used  to  lie  in 
the  middle  had  gone.  The  birches  hung  down 
their  branches  on  the  headlands,  though  they 
could  no  longer  see  their  own  reflection,  the 
sandy  shore  lay  in  its  old  place,  although  no 
summer  bathers  came  again,  and  the  fishing 
stones  were  there  too,  although  there  were 
no  more  fishers.  The  little  islands  were 
still  covered  with  mountain-ashes,  although 
ploughed  fields  lay  all  around  them,  and  all 
the  houses  kept  their  places  round  the  lake, 
although  the  young  folks  who  lived  in  them 
could  no  longer  go  sailing  and  rowing  on  the 
lake  in  the  beautiful  summer  evenings." 

Yes,  Little-Maid  could  agree  to  that  too. 

But  then  the  Pastor's  daughter  turned  quickly 
to  the  window. 


36  Liliecrona's  Home 

"  Look  out,  Nora,  and  you  others,  too,"  she 
said,  pointing  to  the  long  valley.  "  What  do 
you  think  it  is  that  you  see  down  there  ?  " 

And  sure  enough,  when  Little-Maid  peeped 
out,  she  saw  in  one  glance  all  that  the  Pastor's 
daughter  had  described.  There  lay  the  level 
bed,  and  the  old  shores  round  it  going  out  and 
in,  in  long  gulfs  and  bays.  There  were  the 
headlands  with  their  birches,  and  in  the  fields 
the  little  copses  that  had  been  wooded  islands 
before,  and  on  one  side  the  steep  mountain 
with  its  pine  forest,  and  on  the  other  the 
crowded  alder  bushes.  Half-way  up  the  moun- 
tain she  saw  the  circle  of  peasant  cottages. 
And  the  wooded  hills  and  clearings  and  every- 
thing else  was  there. 

The  maids  stood  behind  her  and  they,  too, 
looked  and  saw  the  same  as  she  did. 

However  was  it  that  they  had  never  noticed 
it  before  ? 

It  was  certainly  true  that  Black  Lake  had 
lain  there  once  ;  it  was  the  bed  of  an  old  lake 
sure  enough. 

"  Yes,  that  is  just  what  it  is,"  said  the  Pastor's 
daughter.  "  That  is  the  mirror  which  once 
lay  before  Lovdala,  but  it  has  lost  its  glass 
now.  There  are  very  many  who  think  it  is  a 
pity  that  it  is  gone  and  that  the  mirror  is  a 
mirror  no  longer." 

But  now  Little-Maid's  heart  was  bursting 
with  desire  to  say  all  she  knew  about  the  lake  ; 
she  could  not  keep  silence  any  longer. 

"  Mother  used  to  talk  about  this  lake  that  is 
said  to  have  lain  below  Lovdala,"  she  said. 


The  Black  Lake  37 

"  Yes,"  said  the  Pastor's  daughter,  "  I  expect 
you  have  heard  a  good  deal  about  Lovdala 
from  your  Mother." 

"  Mother  said,"  continued  Little-Maid,  speak- 
ing very  fast,  "  that  there  were  three  things 
the  lake  left  behind  when  it  dried  up.  One 
was  the  cold  breeze  that  always  blows  in  the 
valley  here,  the  second  was  the  cold  fog  that 
rises  in  the  autumn,  and  the  third  was " 

But  Little-Maid  never  got  to  the  third,  for 
the  Pastor's  daughter  interrupted  her  sharply. 

"  Just  so,  there  was  something  else,"  she  said. 
"  We  know  what  that  was  already." 


CHAPTER    IV 

SNOW-WHITE 

SUCH  a  chitter-chattering  was  going  on  in 
the  kitchen  bedroom  at  Lovdala  that 
Little-Maid  could  not  possibly  get  a  wink  of 
sleep,  although  she  was  lying  that  night  in  a 
real  little  bed  which  had  been  moved  in  for 
her. 

Mamsell  Maia  Lisa's  foster-sister,  Anna  Bro- 
gren,  who  had  married  Provost  Lovstedt  in 
Ransater,  had  come  on  a  visit  and  was  to  stay 
till  next  day.  The  spare  room  had  been  put 
ready  for  her,  but  no  sooner  had  the  Pastor 
and  his  wife  gone  to  bed  than  she  had  come 
creeping  downstairs  again. 

She  had,  of  course,  wanted  to  have  a  private 
talk  with  Mamsell  Maia  Lisa,  and  she  was 
disappointed  to  see  Little-Maid  in  bed  there  too. 
Time  after  time  she  went  to  look  and  listen  if 
she  was  asleep.  At  last  Little-Maid  lay  quiet 
as  a  mouse,  for  she  was  sorry  to  be  in  their  way. 

"  She  must  be  asleep  by  now,"  said  the 
Provost's  wife,  as  she  took  the  candle  and  went 
once  more  to  Little-Maid's  bed. 

"No,  that  she  isn't,"  said  the  Pastor's 
daughter ;  "  how  can  you  expect  it  after  all 
our  chattering  ?  ' 

3* 


Snow- White  39 

"  Perhaps  we  had  better  be  quiet  for  a  little," 
suggested  Anna  Brogren. 

They  had  been  silent  not  more  than  two 
minutes  when  Anna  Brogren  felt  quite  sure 
that  the  child  would  be  asleep  now,  and  a 
good  thing  too,  for  she  was  not  going  to  leave 
Lovdala  until  she  had  heard  how  everything 
had  happened,  even  though  she  had  to  sit  all 
nigjht  long. 

"  She  is  not  asleep,  that  I  am  certain  of," 
answered  the  Pastor's  daughter.  "  But  we 
will  manage  another  way.  I  will  tell  you  a 
tale  whilst  we  wait.  I  expect  you  remember  of 
old  many  a  tale  of  mine." 

"  I  am  afraid  that's  just  the  way  to  wake 
her  up,"  objected  Anna  Brogren,  "  but  do  as 
you  like.  What  tale  is  it  to  be  ?  " 

"  I  think  I'll  tell  you  the  story  of  Snow- 
White." 

"  Oh,  that  one,"  said  Anna  in  no  very  pleased 
tone.  "It  is  a  long  time  since  I  last  heard 
that." 

"  You  know  there  was  once  a  Pastor's  wife," 
began  Maia  Lisa,  "  who  was  so  vexed  that  she 
had  no  children." 

"  No,  no,  you  are  telling  it  all  wrong,"  said 
Anna  Brogren.  "  It  was  surely  a  queen." 

"  I  have  always  heard  it  was  a  Pastor's  wife," 
answered  Maia  Lisa,  "  and  I  cannot  tell  the 
tale  in  any  other  way." 

And  she  continued  to  tell  of  the  Pastor's 
wife  who  had  longed  for  a  daughter,  as  red  as 
blood  and  as  white  as  snow,  and  who  died  when 
her  wish  was  granted. 


4-O  Liliecrona's  Home 

"  I  think  we  might  talk  about  something 
a  little  more  cheerful,"  said  her  foster- 
sister. 

"  I  can  understand  that  you  have  not  for- 
gotten the  story,"  continued  the  Pastor's 
daughter,  "  and  so  I  will  not  talk  of  little 
Snow- White's  childhood.  You  will  remember 
that  it  was  free  from  sorrow,  although  she  was 
motherless,  for  she  had  a  kind  aunt  to  look 
after  her  home,  a  kind  foster-sister,  and  a  dear 
old  Grandmother.  But  the  kindest  and  dearest 
of  all  was  her  dear  Father.  He  was  her  gentlest 
playfellow,  and  to  him  she  went  in  all  her 
troubles.  He  never  would  have  her  kept 
strictly  like  other  children,  but  she  did  just 
as  she  wished.  People  said  of  course  that  he 
was  spoiling  her,  but  he  would  not  hear  a  word 
of  it." 

"  Perhaps  little  Snow- White  was  too  good  to 
be  spoilt,"  said  Anna  Brogren,  in  a  strangely 
grave  tone. 

''Never  anyone  was  happier  than  Snow- 
White,"  went  on  the  Pastor's  daughter,  "  es- 
pecially when  her  aunt  left  and  she  had  to 
manage  the  house  herself  and  look  after  her 
dear  Father.  For  many  years  her  only  sorrow 
was  when  her  foster-sister  married  and  moved 
to  another  parish.  And  if  at  that  time  anyone 
had  told  her  that  her  Father  would  turn  against 
her,  I  think  she  would  only  have  laughed 
aloud.  How  could  dear  Father  and  she  ever 
quarrel  ?  Not  even  in  her  dreams  could  she 
imagine  such  madness." 

"  And  certainly  no  one  else  either  would  have 


Snow- White  4 1 

believed  it  could  happen,"  said  Anna  Brogren 
in  the  same  serious  tone  as  before. 

'  And  Snow- White  was  never  farther  from 
thinking  of  such  a  great  misfortune  than  one 
lovely  morning  last  summer,  when  she  went  out 
with  her  Father  to  see  the  hay-crop." 

'  Was  that  last  summer  ?  "  interrupted  Anna 
Brogren.  "  I  thought  Snow- White  lived  a 
thousand  years  ago." 

"  I  have  always  heard  that  Snow- White  is  still 
living,"  said  the  Pastor's  daughter,  "  and  the 
day  she  went  out  with  her  dear  Father,  she 
was  just  seventeen  years  old  and  he  was  fifty, 
although  he  scarcely  looked  it.  He  wore  a 
peruke  and  no  hat,  his  shirt-front  was  finely 
frilled,  and  great  buckles  shone  on  his  shoes. 
In  Snow- White's  eyes  he  was  very  handsome, 
for  she  had  on  her  old  cotton  frock  and  big  sun- 
bonnet,  and  seemed  of  no  importance  beside 
her  Father." 

"  I  have  always  heard  that  nobody  was  so 
beautiful  as  little  Snow- White,"  interrupted 
her  foster-sister,  but  the  Pastor's  daughter 
went  on  without  heeding  her. 

"  The  sun-bonnet,  however,  was  very  con- 
venient, as  it  hid  her  face,  for  otherwise  her  dear 
Father,  might  have  seen  that  she  looked  any- 
thing but  pleased. 

"  Alas,  alas  !  I  am  thinking  why  Snow- White 
was  vexed  at  having  to  go  out  with  her  Father 
just  then.  She  had  wanted  to  stay  at  her  loom 
and  get  on  with  her  linen- weaving.  But  when 
he  had  come  himself  to  the  bedroom  window  to 
call  her  she  could  not  possibly  say  'no'," 


42  Liliecrona's  Home 

"  I  do  not  believe  she  could  ever  say  'no'  to 
dear  Father,"  said  her  foster-sister. 

'  They  went  past  the  dairy  and  calf-pasture, 
for  they  were  on  their  way  to  the  south  field 
where  Long-Bengt  and  the  Vetter-lads  were 
busy  mowing  grass.  It  was  not  far,  but  it 
always  meant  plenty  of  time  to  go  out  with  her 
Father. 

"  He  stopped  to  look  at  the  cows  and  he 
stopped  to  talk  to  the  dairy-maid.  When  they 
came  to  the  birches  on  the  hill,  he  stopped  again 
to  prop  up  a  young  fir  tree  that  had  been  blown 
down. 

"  But  now  I  must  tell  you  that  Snow- White 
could  never  be  cross  very  long  when  she  was 
with  dear  Father.  She  was  always  so  full  of 
wonder  that  he  was  just  what  he  was. 

"  And,  in  my  opinion,  Snow- White  was  not 
wrong  in  thinking  it  noble  and  kind  of  Father 
to  stay  all  his  life  as  assistant-pastor  in  a  poor 
little  far-away  parish  of  far-away  Varmland. 
With  his  learning  and  irresistible  eloquence, 
added  to  his  dignity  and  charm  of  manner,  he 
could  surely  have  become  a  dean  or  a  bishop 
if  he  had  only  been  willing.  Don't  you  think  so, 
too  ?  " 

"  It  is  not  easy  for  me  to  say  anything  about 
Snow-White's  Father,"  said  Anna  Brogren. 
"  But  I  should  certainly  think  he  could  have 
risen  to  any  post  he  wished." 

"  I  cannot  be  certain  of  Snow- White's  feelings, 
but  I  fancy  she  said  to  herself,  '  You,  Snow- 
White,  who  know  nothing,  who  are  nothing, 
and  who  have  seen  nothing,  are  you  not  ashamed 


Snow- White  43 

to  go  about  in  a  bad  temper  ?  Just  think  of 
Father  who  never  complains,  never  wants 
anything  for  himself,  and  always  carries  a 
bright  face  ! '  Snow- White  made  excuse  that 
she  would  so  have  liked  to  finish  her  weaving 
before  she  left  home.  For  she  had  no  choice 
but  to  go  that  summer  to  Loka  Wells  with  her 
Grandmother.  Last  winter  had  plagued  her 
terribly ;  it  broke  one's  heart  to  see  how  her 
hands  suffered.  All  spring,  Snow- White  had 
urged  her  to  go  for  a  change,  but  she  knew  her 
Grandmother  would  never  go  without  her. 

"  She  knew  she  ought  to  ask  her  Father  to 
fix  a  day  for  their  journey.  But  she  shrank 
from  doing  it.  Did  she  not  know  that  dear 
Father  was  sorry  to  lose  her  for  six  whole  weeks, 
and  put  it  off  as  long  as  he  could  ? 

"  So  she  walked  along  making  conditions 
with  herself :  if  there  was  a  fine  hay-crop  on 
the  south  field,  so  that  Father  was  really  pleased, 
then  she  would  pluck  up  courage  and  speak 
about  the  journey. 

"  And  it  really  looked  as  if  she  would  soon 
have  to  go,  for  when  they  reached  the  south 
field  the  crop  was  an  uncommonly  fine  one. 
Snow- White  at  once  noticed  how  pleased  dear 
Father  was,  for  he  began  to  joke  with  Long- 
Bengt,  the  tallest  man  in  the  parish,  and  say 
he  ought  to  grow  a  little  more.  The  grass  was 
taller  than  he. 

"  Long-Bengt  was  at  no  loss  for  an  answer. 
He  said  that  if  the  Pastor  was  going  to  keep 
on  working  his  land  in  that  way,  he  would  soon 
get  no  one  to  mow  his  grass.  It  was  a  misery 


44  Liliecrona's  Home 

to  have  to  cut  through  such  a  wall.  And  the 
two  Vetter-lads  backed  him  up  and  said  they 
would  rather  fight  with  all  the  West  Goths  in 
Broby  fair  than  mow  grass  like  that  another 
year. 

"  Dear  Father  had  to  give  as  polite  an  answer 
back  again,  and  they  all  stood  round  in  silence, 
waiting  for  it. 

"  Ah,  I  think  Snow- White  will  always  re- 
member Father  as  he  stood  there,  so  pleased  and 
friendly  in  the  midst  of  his  men,  pretending 
that  he  was  wondering  what  he  could  answer 
so  that  it  might  make  the  better  impression 
when  it  came. 

"  But  look  at  that  now  !  They  never  heard 
dear  Father's  answer,  for  something  unexpected 
happened  and  turned  their  thoughts  in  another 
direction. 

"  Whatever  could  it  be  coming  towards  them 
through  the  high  grass  ?  What  could  it  be,  not 
walking  quietly,  but  reeling  along,  screaming 
and  talking  to  itself  ? 

"  I  am  sure  Snow- White  had  never  seen  any- 
thing that  moved  her  so  deeply. 

"  Ah,  to  see  a  woman  in  such  a  dreadful  state  ! 
Her  clothes  wet  and  muddy  clung  tightly  round 
her.  Her  hair  had  fallen  loose  from  the  comb 
and  hung  in  wisps  down  her  back,  and,  most 
terrible  of  all,  there  were  bloodstains  on  both 
hands  and  face. 

"  Long-Bengt  and  the  Vetter-lads  turned  aside 
and  spat  three  times  as  though  they  had  seen 
an  evil  spirit.  A  very  little  more  and  dear 
Father  would  have  done  the  same. 


Snow- White  45 

"  But  suddenly  Snow- White  seemed  to  recog- 
nise the  new-comer's  face,  and  she  hastened  to 
whisper  to  dear  Father  that  it  must  be  the  lady 
who  kept  house  for  Countess  Borg. 

"  Father  agreed,  and  went  up  to  the  lady  and 
asked  her  what  had  happened  that  she  was 
coming  to  him  so  early  in  the  morning.  But 
she  was  so  excited  that  she  did  not  know  him, 
but  only  called  out  that  she  could  bear  it  no 
longer  at  the  Countess's,  and  was  on  her  way 
to  get  help  at  the  Parsonage. 

"  They  took  her  home  with  them,  and  after 
a  time  she  grew  calm  enough  to  tell  them  what 
had  happened. 

"  The  Countess  had  worried  and  plagued 
her  until  she  could  bear  it  no  longer,  and  had 
run  away  from  Borg  at  two  o'clock  in  the 
morning. 

"  She  had  been  so  confused  that  she  never 
thought  where  she  was  going  until  she  was 
out  of  the  house.  Then  she  had  decided  to 
go  to  the  Parsonage  as  she  had  heard  they  had 
kind  hearts  there.  But  the  poor  thing  had 
taken  a  short  cut  over  the  meadows,  could  not 
get  over  the  footbridge,  but  had  tumbled  into 
the  brook,  hit  her  head  and  destroyed  her 
clothes.  This  had  so  upset  her  that  she  could 
not  find  the  right  road,  but  had  wandered  to 
and  fro  the  whole  morning  over  the  pastures 
and  cornfields. 

"  Now  she  asked  so  nicely  for  leave  to  stay 
at  the  Parsonage  until  she  had  dried  her  clothes, 
washed  away  the  bloodstains,  and  thought  a 
little  what  she  should  do  next. 


46  Liliecrona's  Home 

"  Of  course  she  could  do  that.  Ah,  I  wonder 
who  would  have  refused  any  human  being  in 
such  distress  ! 

"  But  how  Snow- White  and  her  Father 
blamed  the  Countess.  Beautiful  and  gay  as 
she  was  and  yet  to  be  so  cruel  to  those  beneath 
her  !  And  it  wasn't  the  first  time  either  that 
they  had  heard  a  like  tale  of  her.  I  can  tell 
you  it  was  a  good  thing  the  Countess  didn't 
meet  Snow- White  that  day.  She  would  have 
asked  her  if  she  wasn't  ashamed  of  herself. 
This  lady — now  what  shall  I  call  her  ?  " 

"  You  can  call  her  Mamsell  Vabitz,"  sug- 
gested her  foster-sister. 

"  Well,  this  Mamsell  Vabitz  was  such  an 
excellent  person  and  so  well  spoken  of,  that 
the  Countess  ought  to  have  known  better 
than  to  frighten  her  out  of  her  wits. 

"  But  that  very  same  day  Snow- White  hit 
upon  a  plan  which  gave  her  great  pleasure. 
She  would  ask  Mamsell  Vabitz  to  stay  and 
keep  house  at  the  Parsonage  whilst  Grand- 
mother and  she  went  away  for  their  change. 
If  only  that  could  be  arranged,  she  would  be 
sure  that  everything  would  be  just  as  com- 
fortable as  if  she  were  at  home  herself." 

"  But,  dear  heart,"  said  her  foster-sister, 
"  was  that  your  idea  ?  I  mean  was  it  Snow- 
White's?" 

"  Yes,  indeed  it  was  hers  and  no  one  else's, 
and  she  was  so  glad  that  she  had  had  such  a 
happy  thought.  She  asked  Mamsell  at  once  if 
she  would  stay,  and  she  answered  without 
hesitation  that  she  would  be  glad  to  do  her  that 


Snow- White  47 

service.  But,  she  added,  that  she  would  like 
to  say  if  she  could  get  a  post  in  a  gentleman's 
house,  she  should  leave  at  once.  She  was  a 
poor  woman  and  had  to  put  her  own  interests 
first. 

"  But  it  was  not  so  easy  to  persuade  dear 
Father.  Was  he  to  have  Mamsell  going  about 
the  house  for  six  whole  weeks  and  be  compelled 
to  sit  at  meals  with  her  ? 

"  You  have  no  idea  what  a  business  it  was 
before  Snow- White  and  her  Grandmother  were 
successful.  Father  and  Mamsell  Vabitz  couldn't 
get  on  at  all  well  together.  He  liked  to  joke 
and  tease  everybody,  but  Mamsell  was  strait- 
laced  and  serious  and  very  mindful  of  her 
dignity. 

"  Snow- White  generally  managed  to  keep 
them  apart  until  meal-times,  but  no  sooner 
had  Father  sat  down  to  table  than  he  chose 
for  his  subject  whatever  he  thought  would 
tease  Mamsell.  Best  of  all  he  liked  the  talk  to 
be  about  love  and  marriage. 

"  '  He  was  so  glad,'  he  said,  *  to  have  Mam- 
sell in  his  house  to  give  him  good  advice.  He 
had  long  been  thinking  of  marrying  again. 
What  would  she  say  to  Countess  Borg  ?  ' 

"  But  no  sooner  were  the  words  said  than 
Mamsell  grew  stiff  with  horror.  She  laid 
down  her  knife  and  fork  on  her  plate  and  stared 
at  him." 

Anna  Brogren  began  to  smile.  "  How  he 
would  enjoy  that,"  she  said. 

"  Yes,  dear  Father  was  plainly  in  his  element 
then.  It  was  not  every  day  he  found  anyone 


48  Liliecrona's  Home 

who  did  not  understand  his  jokes.  Now  he 
declared  he  really  could  not  comprehend  why 
Mamsell  should  look  so  astonished.  Did  she 
think  that  the  Countess  would  not  have  him  ? 
But  he  knew  for  a  fact  that  the  Countess 
thought  him  a  handsome  man.  She  always 
came  to  church  every  Sunday  when  she  was 
at  Borg,  and  she  had  told  him  with  her  own 
lips  that  she  never  went  to  hear  an  ugly 
preacher. 

"  It  was  really  too  funny  !  When  Snow- 
White's  Father  said  this  two  bright  red  spots 
appeared  on  Mamsell's  cheeks.  She  had  evi- 
dently been  silent  as  long  as  she  possibly  could, 
but  now  she  had  to  give  vent  to  her  anger. 
'  And  this  man  is  supposed  to  be  a  Pastor  and 
servant  of  God/  she  burst  out. 

"  And  Mamsell  had  such  a  coarse,  rough 
voice.  She  was  a  little  woman  with  a  small, 
refined  face  and  snow-white  hair,  although  she 
was  not  more  than  forty  years  old.  She  looked 
as  gentle  as  a  dove,  and  for  that  very  reason 
it  was  more  of  a  shock  when  she  began  to 
speak. 

"  Now  when  Mamsell  had  in  her  deep, 
hollow  voice  pronounced  judgment  on  dear 
Father,  he  began  to  laugh  aloud.  But  not 
another  word  did  she  utter  all  dinner-time." 

Anna  Brogren  began  to  laugh  too,  but  Snow- 
White  only  sighed  before  she  went  on. 

"  I  expect  I  need  scarcely  say  how  Snow- White 
begged  and  prayed  her  Father  and  how  really 
distressed  she  was  when  her  entreaties  were  of 
no  avail.  She  lived  in  continual  anxiety  lest 


Snow- White  49 

Mamsell  should  run  away  from  them  as  she 
had  run  away  from  Borg." 

"  I  rather  fancy  she  stayed,"  said  her  foster- 
sister. 

"  Yes,  she  stayed,  and  how  glad  Snow- White 
was.  Mamsell  even  began  to  help  in  the 
housekeeping.  She  would  not  stay  with  them 
and  do  nothing,  it  wasn't  likely  she  should. 

"  Of  course  such  a  cook  as  Mamsell  was  not 
content  with  ordinary  middle-class  fare,  but 
she  made  French  dishes  as  if  for  a  nobleman's 
table.  And  dear  Father,  who  for  several  years 
had  been  tutor  in  good  families,  lived  his  young 
days  over  again,  when  he  tasted  made  dishes, 
fine  pastry,  and  spicy  sauces.  It  was  plain  he 
would  not  go  short  whilst  Snow- White  was 
away.  It  was  reassuring,  too,  to  notice  that 
his  jokes  with  Mamsell  lost  a  good  deal  of  their 
sharpness  when  she  had  served  a  really  good 
meal. 

"  And  it  was  pleasant,  too,  that  he  and 
Mamsell  both  took  such  an  interest  in  gar- 
dening. He  might  talk  as  long  as  he  liked  of  the 
botanists,  Linne  and  Hammarby,  and  of  the 
Botanical  Gardens  in  Upsala,  without  Mamsell's 
ever  being  tired  of  listening  to  him. 

"  Ah,  no  doubt  it  was  the  gardening  that 
reconciled  Father  to  the  thought  of  keeping 
Mamsell.  Otherwise  he  would  never  have  done 
it.  Snow- White  had  that  to  thank  for  her  ease 
of  mind  when  she  started.  She  almost  dared  to 
hope  that  Mamsell  Vabitz  and  dear  Father 
would  put  up  with  one  another  till  she  came 
home  again. 


5O  Liliecrona's  Home 

"  But  she  was  not  really  happy  all  the  time 
she  was  away,  for  her  thoughts  were  always 
at  home,  wondering  if  Father  was  teasing  poor 
Mamsell. 

'  When  Snow- White  had  been  away  two 
weeks,  dear  Father  wrote  her  such  a  gay  letter, 
full  of  fun  from  beginning  to  end,  telling  how  he 
and  Mamsell  were  getting  on.  One  evening  he 
had  had  a  visit  from  Lieutenant  Christian  Berg 
and  Herr  Julius,  and  they  had  all  played  cards 
and  sung  Bellman.  Next  day  Mamsell  would 
not  speak  to  him,  and  all  the  week  he  had  had 
nothing  for  dinner  but  black  puddings  and 
bacon  or  carrots  and  salted  herrings.  But  the 
day  before  he  wrote,  he  had  had  grilled  salmon 
and  game  pie,  so  that  he  knew  he  had  been 
taken  into  favour  again. 

"  Snow- White  could  not  help  laughing  at 
dear  Father's  nonsense,  although  that  letter 
did  not  altogether  reassure  her.  But  the  next 
was  better,  when  he  told  how  Long-Bengt  had 
given  out  that  he  was  now  going  to  marry 
Merry  Maia,  his  old  sweetheart,  and  that 
Mamsell  Vabitz  had  been  the  means  of  per- 
suading him.  She  had  kept  on  telling  him 
how  wrong  it  was  to  keep  a  woman  waiting 
fourteen  years,  and  at  last  her  words  had  taken 
effect. 

"  It  was  plain  that  dear  Father  was  very 
pleased.  He  did  not  write  '  Vabitza '  in  this 
letter  as  he  usually  did,  but  Mamsell  Vabitz— 
a  sure  sign  that  he  recognised  what  an  excellent 
person  he  had  to  do  with.  After  that  Snow- 
White  got  no  more  letters  from  dear  Father, 


Snow- White  5 1 

but  only  short  cards  to  say  that  he  was  too 
busy  to  have  much  time  for  writing.  Not  one 
word  did  he  say  of  Mamsell,  which  must  mean 
that  he  had  got  used  to  her  and  thought  no 
more  about  her  than  about  the  other  ser- 
vants. 

"  But  Snow- White  still  felt  a  little  uneasy, 
and  I  cannot  describe  how  glad  she  was  when 
she  got  into  the  carriage  to  drive  home.  She 
had  written  in  good  time  to  tell  him  when 
to  expect  them,  and  in  the  same  letter  had 
praised  him  for  putting  up  with  Vabitz.  But 
now  he  need  not  have  any  more  strangers  in 
his  home,  for  Snow- White  would  never  leave 
him  again." 

"  Did  she  really  write  that  ?  "  asked  her 
foster-sister ;  "  she  must  be  amused  now  to 
remember  it." 

"  There  is  a  good  deal  that  is  amusing  in 
this  story,"  said  the  Pastor's  daughter.  "  It 
is  almost  laughable  to  think  how  pleased  Snow- 
White  was  as  she  drove  along  the  road,  so  happy 
indeed,  that  all  she  met  brightened  up  at  the 
very  sight  of  her.  At  least  it  was  so  at  the 
beginning  of  her  journey,  but  when  she  came 
nearer  home,  where  people,  even  at  a  distance, 
recognised  the  carriage  and  its  occupants,  she 
thought  that  everyone  they  met  was  thinking 
of  something  sad  enough  to  make  their  faces 
drawn  and  wrinkled. 

"  I  tell  you  Snow- White  grew  quite  puzzled. 
When  she  came  to  the  last  inns  where  she  knew 
the  innkeepers,  she  asked  after  dear  Father, 
and  they  told  her  he  was  as  active  as  when  she 


52  Liliecrona's  Home 

went  away.  Yet  she  could  hear  by  their  tone 
that  they  knew  something  they  would  not  tell. 
Neither  would  she  ask.  It  was  indeed  rather 
sad  if  Mamsell  had  run  away  at  last,  but  Snow- 
White  was  not  going  to  spoil  the  joy  of  her 
home-coming  by  thinking  about  her." 

"  That  is  ridiculous  beyond  words,"  said  her 
foster-sister,  with  a  laugh,  "if  it  were  not  so 
sad." 

"  At  the  last  stage  Long-Bengt  came  to  meet 
them  with  their  own  horses.  And  there  was 
no  doubt  about  it,  he  was  strange,  too.  As  a 
rule  words  had  to  be  literally  dragged  from 
him,  but  now  they  came  in  an  endless  stream. 
And  Snow- White  noticed,  too,  that  he  talked 
about  everything  else,  but  not  a  word  of  her 
Father  and  Vabitz.  And  she  dared  not  ask. 
If  anything  was  wrong  she  would,  no  doubt, 
hear  it  from  dear  Father  himself." 

"  And  so  she  knew  nothing  before  she  got 
home  ?  "  exclaimed  her  foster-sister. 

"  No,  she  knew  nothing — nothing  at  all. 
And  I  will  tell  you  what  was  the  saddest  part 
of  it  all  for  her,  and  that  was  that  dear  Father 
thought  he  had  acted  with  such  wonderful 
prudence,  and  expected  her  to  be  pleased  at 
what  he  had  done.  And  no  wonder  he  did. 
For  had  she  not  praised  Mamsell  and  said  he 
ought  to  be  happy  to  have  such  an  excellent 
person  in  his  house  ?  It  was  her  own  words 
perhaps  that  had  led  him  to  think  that  Mam- 
sell  

"  You  certainly  can  never  understand  how 
pleased  Father  was,  as  he  stood  upon  his 


Snow- White  5  3 

threshold  to  welcome  her,  and  how  pleased 
Vabitz  was  as  she  stood  beside  him.  Dear 
Father's  only  wish  was  to  tell  the  great 


news. 
« 


But  he  did  not  need  to  tell  anything,  foi 
she  saw  it  herself,  knew  it  indeed  before  she 
got  out  of  the  carriage.  And  now  I  must  tell 
you  how  upset  she  was.  She  grew  so  angry 
that  she  lost  all  self-control.  Never  in  her  life 
had  she  felt  like  that  before.  She  did  not 
indeed  fly  at  them  with  cuffs  and  blows,  much 
as  she  would  have  liked  to  do  it. 

"  Her  tongue,  however,  she  could  not  control, 
and  she  said  the  very  worst  she  could  think  of. 
Never  would  she  call  Vabitz  '  Mother  '  was  her 
first  speech,  and  the  second  that  she  was  no 
fitting  wife  for  her  Father,  she  who  was  but  the 
daughter  of  a  poor  German  trumpeter,  whilst 
her  Father  could  have  married  the  best-born 
lady  in  the  land.  And,  she  continued,  they  knew 
well  enough  themselves  that  they  had  acted 
wrongly  or  they  would  never  have  married  on 
the  sly. 

"  But  now  Grandmother  came,  seized  her 
wrist,  and  told  her  sternly  to  come  with  her  to 
her  room.  She  did  not  refuse  to  obey,  but  first 
she  turned  to  Vabitz  once  more  and  told  her 
she  had  curried  favour  with  Father  by  her  good 
food,  and  that  he  had  only  married  her  for  her 
fine  dishes. 

"  And  when  that  was  said  her  Grandmother 
got  her  away." 

"  That  was  a  pity,"  said  her  foster-sister ; 
"  I  think  they  might  have  let  her  go  on," 


54  Liliecrona's  Home 

"  No,  her  Grandmother  carried  her  off,  and 
once  in  her  room  she  burst  into  tears.  That, 
too,  was  something  new,  for  never  before  had 
she  cried  like  that.  On  and  on  she  wept  for 
hours  before  she  stopped,  and  all  the  time  she 
felt  as  if  something  which  hitherto  had  lain 
asleep  within  her  heart  had  now  awakened  and 
overmastered  her. 

"  She  felt  convinced  that  some  old  dragon 
or  horrible  wild  beast  had  its  home  in  her  soul. 
Alas,  alas,  in  her  fear  of  this  she  almost  forgot 
the  other  grief,  for  indeed  it  was  a  sore  trouble 
to  know  there  was  anything  so  unruly  and 
dangerous  in  her  very  self  !  It  was  true  she 
could  not  exactly  help  its  being  there,  only  she 
must  never  again  let  it  be  seen." 

"  Oh,  dear  heart,"  said  her  foster-sister 
tenderly,  "  had  she  never  been  angry  before  in 
her  life  ?  " 

"  At  last  she  slept  and  forgot  it  all,  and  did 
not  wake  until  next  day  as  the  sun  was  rising 
from  behind  the  mountain  and  shining  in  her 
face.  She  lay,  feeling  miserable,  and  wondering 
what  she  should  do.  But  she  did  not  need  to 
wonder  long,  for  in  a  few  minutes  the  house- 
maid came  with  a  message  from  her  mistress  ; 
she  was  to  get  up  and  go  to  her  loom. 

"  It  still  wanted  some  minutes  to  four,  and 
she  had  not  been  in  the  habit  of  getting  up  so 
early.  And,  although  she  had  worked,  it  had 
only  been  at  her  own  wish,  not  at  another's 
bidding.  She  was  getting  angry  again  when 
she  remembered  the  wild  creature  inside  and 
feared  lest  it  should  lift  its  head  again. 


Snow- White  55 

"  When  she  had  been  working  at  her  loom  a 
couple  of  hours,  she  could  better  understand 
how  everything  had  happened.  Vabitz  had 
not  tried  to  curry  favour  with  dear  Father, 
but  had  kept  on  telling  him  the  truth,  until 
he  had  plainly  seen  that  she  would  be  an  in- 
valuable help  for  him  and  his  daughter.  And 
when  dear  Father  had  seen  that  his  daughter 
had  not  appreciated  his  cleverness,  he  was,  no 
doubt,  quite  angry  with  her. 

"  At  seven  o'clock  Snow- White  was  called  into 
her  Father's  room  to  be  warned  and  scolded, 
as  indeed  was  to  be  expected.  But  he  was  so 
terribly  tactless,  when  he  reproved  her,  that 
she  nearly  grew  angry  again.  Still  she  did 
not,  but  begged  both  Vabitz  and  dear  Father 
very  sweetly  for  forgiveness  as  she  kissed 
their  hands.  She  could  see  how  he  rejoiced 
to  have  it  settled  and  peace  in  his  home  once 
more." 

"  And  things  like  that  can  happen  whilst 
someone  else,  but  a  few  miles  away,  knows 
nothing  of  them,"  exclaimed  her  foster-sister, 
with  a  tearful  voice.  "  If  only  I  had  been 
there." 

"  It  was  a  good  thing  there  was  nobody  there 
to  take  Snow- White's  part,"  said  the  Pastor's 
daughter.  "  She  was  glad  she  had  been  ready 
to  make  peace,  for  when  she  saw  them  together 
she  understood  that  she  was  not  the  most 
unhappy. 

"  She  was  young  and  might  get  married  and 
have  a  home  of  her  own,  but  it  was  another 
matter  with  dear  Father.  He  would  never 


56  Liliecrona's  Home 

be  rid  of  Vabitz,  but  must  keep  her  to  his  life's 
end. 

"  That  indeed  was  a  life  in  mid- winter  with 
never  a  summer  sun.  It  was  not  she  but  dear 
Father  who  was  to  be  pitied. 

"  But,  friendly  as  she  wished  to  be,  she  could 
not  help  being  vexed  with  him,  when  he  came 
in  a  little  while  to  her  bedroom  window,  and 
asked  if  she  would  not  come  out  for  a  walk. 
She  replied  that  she  could  not  possibly,  for 
dear  Mother  had  ordered  so  many  yards  to  be 
woven  before  breakfast. 

"  In  the  first  moment  of  irritation  dear 
Father  insisted  she  should  come  in  any  case, 
but  then  he  bethought  himself  that  it  would 
scarcely  do  to  set  dear  Mother's  orders  on  one 
side  the  very  first  day.  So  dear  Father  went 
away  from  the  window  and  left  Snow- White 
at  her  loom.  This  she  had  never  expected,  and 
her  heart  was  ready  to  burst.  She  knew  she 
had  lost  dear  Father." 

Her  voice  shook  with  sobs  and  she  stopped 
short.  Anna  Brogren,  too,  did  not  speak,  but 
wept  aloud. 

And  Little-Maid  would  have  cried,  too,  if 
she  had  not  been  so  afraid  that  the  others 
would  hear  her. 

The  next  night  was  not  a  scrap  better  for 
Little-Maid  than  the  last.  Anna  Brogren  had 
not  gone  as  she  intended,  but  had  put  off  her 
journey  home,  and  no  sooner  had  the  Pastor 
and  his  wife  said  good  night  than  down  she 
crept  from  the  guest-chamber  into  the  kitchen 
bedroom  to  talk  to  her  foster-sister. 


Snow- White  57 

This  time  they  did  not  trouble  about  waiting 
until  Little-Maid  was  asleep.  Anna  said  at 
once  that  she  had  only  stayed  to  hear  the  end 
of  the  pretty  tale  that  Maia  Lisa  had  begun  the 
night  before.  And  she  begged  her  to  go  on  at 
once  so  that  they  might  finish  it,  for  she  could 
not  possibly  stay  over  the  next  day. 

And  so  the  Pastor's  daughter  began  again. 

"  If  I  remember  right,"  said  she,  "  Snow- White 
had  not  been  at  home  more  than  a  week  before 
Sexton  Moreus  with  his  wife  Ulla  came  on  a 
visit.  I  cannot  tell  how  pleased  she  was  when 
they  came.  Everything  was  going  smoothly 
between  dear  Mother  and  her,  it  is  true,  but 
how  she  had  to  work  !  She  sat  all  day  long 
weaving  her  diaper  patterns  until  at  night  she 
went  to  bed  with  an  aching  back.  It  was  a 
mercy  when  a  visitor  came  to  give  her  a  moment's 
leisure. 

"  Ah,  dear,  dear  !  Snow- White  thought  to 
herself  that  she  would  certainly  never  get 
dear  Mother's  love  of  work,  nor  would  she  ever 
get  such  quick  and  clever  fingers.  Mother 
could  weave  a  beautiful  damask  with  all  the 
animals  out  of  the  Ark  worked  into  the  border. 
Snow- White  saw  plainly  enough  that  Mother 
looked  upon  her  as  a  bungler,  but  she  thought 
she  surely  must  see,  too,  that  she  tried  her  best 
to  please  her. 

"  Ulla  Moreus  knew  dear  Mother  from  the 
time  when  she  was  housekeeper  at  Borg  and 
understood  her  well.  Besides,  she  had  lately 
been  with  her  mother-in-law  to  help  at  Borg 
with  the  autumn  baking,  so  she  had  plenty 


58  Liliecrona's  Home 

to  tell  about  the  Countess.  Snow-White 
noticed  that  dear  Mother  enjoyed  hearing  of 
all  the  mad  things  her  ladyship  had  been  doing 
lately. 

"  But  to  tell  the  truth,  I  think  no  one  was 
so  pleased  at  the  visit  as  dear  Father.  Snow- 
White  sat  and  watched  how  he  threw  off  the 
great  dignity  he  had  assumed  ever  since  his 
marriage,  and  became  his  old  self  once  more. 
And  she  said  to  herself,  '  I  cannot  think  how 
dear  Father  has  held  out  lately.  I  have  not 
known  him  since  we  went  to  the  south  field  to 
see  the  hay-crop.' 

"  Snow-White  knew  so  well  that  it  was  on  her 
account  that  dear  Father  no  longer  dared  to 
laugh  or  joke.  He  was  filled  with  remorse 
that  he  had  brought  her  up  so  badly.  For  he 
thought  that  she  would  never  have  broken  out 
as  she  did  against  him  and  dear  Mother  if  he 
had  not  spoilt  her.  But  Father  had  made  up 
his  mind  now  that  she  should  be  kept  in  check, 
and  had  it  so  upon  his  conscience  that  he  never 
dared  be  anything  but  stern  and  serious  when 
she  was  in  the  room. 

"  Only  a  few  months  ago  her  Father  had 
thought  she  was  everything  she  should  be, 
but  now  she  was  good  for  nothing.  He  would 
certainly  never  be  himself  again  until  she  was 
a  changed  character. 

"  But  when  Sexton  Moreus  came,  Father 
forgot  his  heavy  burden  and  was  just  as  of  old. 
She  could  not  help  thinking  that  dear  Father 
must  love  her  very  dearly.  What  restraint 
he  laid  upon  himself  every  day  for  her  sake. 


Snow- White  59 

She  was  surely  not  so  grateful  to  him  as  she 
ought  to  be  ! 

"  Dear  Mother  wanted  to  see  to  supper  herself 
to  show  Ulla  Moreus  that  they  had  never  had 
such  food  in  Lovdala  as  now.  She  knew  that 
Ulla  was  the  cleverest  cook  in  the  parish  and 
continually  went  to  prepare  wedding  and 
funeral  feasts,  so  that  it  was  worth  while 
to  make  a  show  for  her.  And  whilst  dear 
Mother  stood  over  the  kitchen  stove  Ulla 
proposed  that  Snow-White  should  go  down 
with  her  to  Grandmother's  for  a  little. 

"  In  Grandmother's  room  Ulla  undid  a 
parcel  that  she  had  brought  with  her  to  amuse 
them.  It  was  such  a  handsome  present  that 
she  had  got  from  her  ladyship  the  Countess. 
How  they  laughed  as  Ulla  told  how  high  she 
stood  in  the  Countess's  favour  and  what 
beautiful  presents  she  got  from  her.  Once  she 
gave  Ulla  a  lapdog  which  could  only  be  fed  on 
cream.  That  indeed  was  a  generous  gift  to  a 
poor  Sexton's  wife  who  by  no  means  always 
had  a  cow  to  milk. 

"  I  fancy  Ulla  would  have  been  almost  sorry 
if  the  Countess  had  ever  given  her  anything 
that  was  any  good.  How  gay  she  was  as  she 
unpacked  the  last  present. 

"  '  Look  at  that  now/  she  said  ;  '  see  how 
well  provided  I  shall  be  when  I  drive  off 
to  peasant  houses  to  get  the  wedding-feast 
ready.' 

"  The  Countess  thought,  no  doubt,  that  she 
had  robbed  herself  when  she  gave  Ulla  her 
riding-dress — the  English  one  that  she  had 


60  Liliecrona's  Home 

worn  herself  the  last  few  years,  with  a  black 
cloth  habit,  a  tight-fitting  red  coat,  and  a  small 
top-hat.  It  was  of  beautiful  stuff  and  cer- 
tainly not  worn  out,  but  quite  ridiculous  all 
the  same.  It  was  of  such  a  length  that  Ulla 
could  not  take  a  step  in  it,  and  it  was  ludicrous 
beyond  words  to  see  her  in  the  red  jacket.  Ulla 
wanted  Snow- White  to  try  it  on  too,  and  when 
she  did  both  Ulla  and  Grandmother  Beata  were 
quite  delighted.  '  There  now,'  said  Ulla,  '  what 
a  pity  the  grand  present  didn't  come  to  you  ; 
it  fits  as  though  it  were  made  for  you.' 

"  Ulla  put  her  in  front  of  the  looking-glass, 
puffed  out  her  hair  a  little  and  put  on  the 
hat. 

"  '  Look  at  her,'  she  said  to  Grandmother. 
'  Isn't  she  like  a  little  noble  Countess  ?  Have 
you  ever  seen  her  look  so  sweet  ?  ' 

"  Ulla  wouldn't  hear  of  her  taking  off  the 
riding-dress  until  dear  Father  and  Sexton 
Moreus  had  seen  her  in  it. 

"  I  must  just  say  one  thing.  Snow- White 
never  ought  to  have  dressed  up.  She  entered 
into  it  so  heartily  and  at  once  thought  she  was 
someone  else. 

"  Grandmother  and  Ulla  bent  double  with 
laughter  when  she  began  to  walk  and  talk 
like  her  ladyship  the  Countess.  And  Ulla 
again  repeated  that  she  would  never  forgive 
her  if  her  husband  did  not  see  her,  and  insisted 
that  they  should  go  back  to  the  house. 

"  Snow- White  thought  to  herself,  '  Perhaps 
dear  Father  may  not  like  me  to  dress  up  when 
he  is  so  strict  with  me.  Before  I  might  do  it 


Snow- White  61 

as  often  as  I  liked,  but  everything  is  different 
now.' 

"  But  as  Ulla  was  with  her  she  took  heart 
and  encouraged  herself  by  thinking,  '  It  will 
never  do  to  let  yourself  be  quite  cowed.  Dear 
Father  is  himself  again  to-day  and  he  cannot 
find  any  fault  with  your  putting  on  theCountess's 
dress/ 

"  Another  thought  too  gave  her  a  little 
comfort.  She  believed  dear  Mother  would  not 
at  all  object  to  their  having  a  little  joke  about 
her  ladyship. 

"  When  they  were  out  on  the  stairway  Ulla 
Moreus  had  a  fresh  idea.  She  took  Snow- White 
away  to  the  stable  and  then  persuaded  Long- 
Bengt  to  saddle  Blackie.  Blackie  was  small  and 
stumpy,  not  much  like  the  high  riding-horses 
in  Borg,  nor  was  the  saddle  with  its  great  stuffed 
seat  and  high  wooden  back  very  similar  to  the 
one  her  ladyship  used. 

"  When  Blackie  was  ready  with  Snow- White 
on  his  back,  Ulla  ran  on  and  called  into  both 
kitchen  and  drawing-room  that  Countess  Marta 
was  riding  down  the  Avenue. 

"  Oh,  oh,  what  a  commotion  there  was  !  Dear 
Mother  tore  off  her  apron  so  that  her  cuff  came 
with  it,  and  rushed  out  to  the  porch  ;  dear 
Father  sprang  out,  too,  with  his  wig  all  on  one 
side  and  stood  by  her  side  on  the  top  step  ;  Ulla 
and  Sexton  Moreus  took  their  place  behind 
them,  whilst  the  housemaid  stood  curtseying 
on  the  lowest  step. 

"  Snow- White  had  her  riding- whip,  of  course, 
and  touched  up  Blackie,  but  it  was  impossible 


62  Liliecrona's  Home 

to  rouse  him  out  of  his  jog-trot.  Not  that  that 
troubled  her,  for  she  never  dreamt  but  that 
her  Father  and  Mother  would  recognise  her 
at  once. 

"  But  it  was  too  ridiculous  ! 

"  Mother  had  so  constantly  seen  the  red 
riding-habit  that  the  Countess  had  worn  for 
several  years  that  she  noticed  nothing  else. 
And  no  sooner  had  Snow- White  saluted  with 
her  riding- whip  and  called  out  '  Bonjour,  Mon- 
sieur le  Pasteur,'  just  as  the  Countess  used  to 
do,  than  dear  Mother  rushed  down  the  steps 
and  curtseyed  to  the  very  ground  itself.  How 
can  I  find  the  right  words  to  tell  it  all  ?  Snow- 
White  certainly  knew  that  dear  Mother  was  a 
little  short-sighted  and  that  it  was  quite  late 
and  dusky,  but  she  could  not  possibly  believe 
that  she  was  not  recognised.  She  thought 
'  Dear  Mother  likes  me  to  make  fun  of  the 
Countess/  She  knew,  of  course,  how  angry 
dear  Mother  was  with  her  old  mistress,  and  it 
never  occurred  to  Snow- White  that  she  would 
stand  and  curtsey  to  her.  And  Mother's  face 
was  aglow  with  joy,  brighter  than  ever  in  her 
life  before. 

"  Snow- White  jumped  from  the  saddle  with- 
out help,  just  like  the  Countess,  and  threw  the 
reins  to  Long-Bengt.  Then  she  turned  to  dear 
Mother  with  outstretched  hand  and  said,  '  Eh 
bien,  Raklitz,  how  are  you  getting  on  in  your 
new  position  ?  '  And  just  think  of  it !  No 
sooner  had  Snow- White  said  this  than  dear 
Mother  bent  over  her  hand  and  kissed  it. 

"  Then  at  last  Snow-White  understood  that 


Snow- White  63 

her  Mother's  eyes  had  deceived  her  and  that 
she  thought  the  Countess  had  come  to  call  on 
her.  And  in  her  consternation  Snow-White 
cried  out,  '  Dear  Mother,  it  is  only  I  !  ' 

"  Mother  drew  herself  up  and  flung  away 
her  hand.  She  just  gave  one  look  at  her  step- 
daughter, then  turned  and  rushed  up  the  steps 
and  into  the  kitchen. 

"  Dear  Father,  Sexton  Moreus,  and  Ulla  came 
round  Snow-White  now  and  laughed  at  her  dis- 
guise. Alack,  alack  !  She  had  to  keep  on  acting 
a  little  while,  because  her  Father  looked  so 
amused.  But  her  heart  was  like  lead  within 
her  at  the  remembrance  of  that  one  look.  She 
thought  to  herself,  '  Now  I  have  made  an 
enemy  of  dear  Mother.  She  does  not  trouble 
about  downright  abuse,  but  she  will  never  forgive 
anyone  who  makes  a  fool  of  her/  ' 

The  Pastor's  daughter  paused  a  moment 
as  if  to  hear  what  the  other  thought  of  her 
tale. 

"It  is  really  something  to  laugh  at,"  said 
Anna  Brogren,  "  but  I  cannot  do  it.  It  fills  my 
heart  with  such  anxiety.  You  had  better  go 
on  at  once  so  that  I  may  hear  what  misery 
you— I  mean  Snow-White — brought  upon  her- 
self." 

And  so  the  Pastor's  daughter  began  again. 

f<  I  really  must  tell  you  of  something  funny 
that  happened  one  day  in  the  end  of  September. 
You  will  see,  dear  foster-sister,  that  it  was 
nothing  very  important,  but  I  think  it  gave 
Snow- White  a  little  courage.  Afterwards,  when- 
ever she  remembered  the  incident,  she  used  to 


64  Liliecrona's  Home 

say  to  herself,  '  After  all,  it  is  a  good  thing  there 
is  someone  belonging  to  the  house  who  is  not 
afraid  of  Mother/  Otherwise  she  would  have 
had  to  confess  that  everyone  stood  a  little  in 
dread  of  her,  her  Father  not  excepted.  She 
could  not  in  the  least  deny  that  Mother  was 
very  careful  of  him  and  so  attentive  that  he 
scarcely  dared  to  move.  But  ah,  how  frightened 
dear  Father  was  to  say  'no,'  when  dear  Mother 
wanted  anything.  That  was  evident  every  day, 
but  never  so  clearly  as  when  Mother  insisted  on 
making  brandy.  Everybody  said  that  dear 
Father  would  never  have  allowed  it  if  she  had 
not  begged  and  prayed,  for  he  had  always  been 
against  it.  In  former  times,  whenever  anyone 
suggested  it,  he  had  answered  sharply  that  in 
a  Pastor's  house  grain  should  be  used  for 
baking  bread  and  boiling  porridge,  not  for  that 
fatal  drink  that  only  brought  people  to  ruin. 
And  he  said  exactly  the  same  to  dear  Mother. 
She  was  not  to  be  put  off,  however,  and  answered 
that  if  he  wanted  to  put  an  end  to  all  dram- 
drinking  in  the  house  she  was  quite  agreed,  but 
if  anyway  there  must  be  brandy  to  offer  to 
strangers,  and  for  the  servants,  then  she  thought 
they  might  just  as  well  make  it  themselves'.  It 
would  cost  only  half  as  much,  Mother  said,  and 
she  worried  and  worried  until  he  let  her  have 
her  way. 

"  For  the  first  distilling  Mother  borrowed  a 
brandy  vat  with  lid  and  pipe  from  a  big  house 
near,  and  as  soon  as  it  came  she  set  to  work  and 
attended  to  it  with  the  greatest  care.  What 
between  soaking  and  fermentation  she  left  the 


Snow- White  65 

brewing-maid  no  peace  and  was  in  the  brew- 
house  all  through  the  process.  Certainly  no 
one  could  reproach  Mother  with  sparing  her- 
self. Dear  Father,  on  the  contrary,  shut  himself 
up  the  whole  time  and  did  not  once  honour 
Mother  by  peeping  in  at  the  brewhouse  door 
and  asking  for  a  taste  of  the  brew.  She  knew 
well  enough  that  he  still  disapproved,  and  she 
knew  that  if  only  one  of  the  workpeople  took 
a  little  too  much  to  drink,  dear  Father  would 
seize  the  opportunity  to  forbid  the  whole  per- 
formance. So  dear  Mother  was  most  particular 
that  none  of  her  helpers  should  get  too  many 
sips,  and  such  was  her  authority  that  she 
managed  to  keep  good  order  all  the  time. 

"  Only  one  little  misfortune  happened. 

"  Dear  Mother  had  quite  finished  the  clearing 
and  had  not  much  else  left  to  do,  except  to 
draw  off  the  brandy  in  casks  and  bottles.  She 
had  also  to  dispose  of  the  lees,  but  they  were  still 
warm,  so  she  put  them  in  a  bucket  outside  the 
brewhouse  door  to  cool.  No  sooner  had  they 
been  put  down  than  Long-Bengt  went  by.  The 
bucket  pulled  and  pulled  him,  but  Mother, 
standing  in  the  doorway,  called  out :  '  Why, 
friend  Bengt,  you  are  surely  not  thinking  of 
drinking  that !  It  is  not  fit  for  human  beings, 
only  distiller's  wash  as  it  is/ 

"  Long-Bengt  put  on  an  innocent  look  and 
went  his  way.  He  was  going  to  the  dairy,  of 
course,  and  there  was  surely  no  harm  in  passing 
the  brewhouse  door.  Sure  enough  he  went  to 
the  dairy  to  fetch  the  hay  fork  that  the  dairy- 
maid had  lent  him  and  started  off  to  take  it  back 


66  Liliecrona's  Home 

with  him  to  the  stable.  But  when  Long-Bengt 
opened  the  gate  to  the  backyard,  he  came  upon 
Big  Billy  standing  with  his  nose  between  the 
palings  sniffing  away  in  the  direction  of  the 
brewhouse.  It  was  a  fine  day,  so  all  the  goats 
were  out.  But  the  others  were  on  a  wood  pile, 
and  Big  Billy  stood  alone  by  the  gate. 

"  No  one  can  understand  how  Long-Bengt 
could  be  so  clumsy,  but  he  opened  the  gate  so 
wide  that  Big  Billy  managed  to  push  out  past 
him.  And  he  never  even  troubled  to  drive  the 
creature  back  again  as  he  ought  to  have  done, 
but  only  just  looked  to  see  that  the  orchard 
gates  were  shut,  to  keep  Big  Billy  from  dear 
Father's  apple  trees  and  dear  Mother's  cabbage 
beds.  Very  likely  he  thought  it  wouldn't 
matter  if  he  did  get  on  to  the  lawn  and  crop 
a  mouthful  of  grass.  But  you  must  know  that 
Big  Billy  did  not  so  much  as  glance  at  the  good 
grass,  but  trotted  away  towards  the  brewhouse. 
He  came  tripping  along  so  daintily  and  quietly 
that  Mother  never  heard  a  sound,  although  the 
brewhouse  door  stood  ajar. 

"  The  creature  had  always  had  such  refined 
manners.  When  he  was  thirsty,  he  neither 
lapped  the  water  like  a  dog  nor  sucked  it  up 
like  a  horse,  but  drank  so  quietly  that  no  one 
knew  what  he  was  about.  Many  a  milk-can 
had  Big  Billy  emptied  behind  the  dairymaid's 
back,  and  now  he  managed  to  sup  up  all  the 
brandy  lees  in  peace  and  quiet  without  Mother 
having  the  least  idea  of  what  was  happening. 
But  when  it  was  all  gone,  Big  Billy  began  to 
bleat,  as  he  always  did,  for  he  thought  mischief 


Snow- White  67 

lost  all  its  pleasure  unless  he  was  there  to  see 
how  vexed  and  angry  everyone  was  at  his  mis- 
deeds. And  in  a  moment  Mother  was  on  the 
threshold  and  saw  the  empty  bucket. 

"  She  seized  the  long,  black  stove-rake  which 
always  stood  in  the  corner  by  the  door  and 
aimed  a  blow  at  Big  Billy.  But  after  all  Billy's 
days  of  petting,  he  could  not  possibly  believe 
that  dear  Mother  was  angry  in  good  earnest, 
so  up  he  got  on  his  two  hind  legs  and  danced 
about  before  her.  Now  Big  Billy  was  both 
strong  and  old  and  it  was  not  always  a  joke  to 
tackle  him.  Dear  Mother  struck  out  with  the 
rake,  and  those  who  knew  his  temper  felt  that 
no  good  would  come  of  it.  So  they  all  came, 
Father,  Snow-White,  and  the  maids  running 
out  of  the  house  to  help  Mother.  But  Big  Billy 
was  doing  her  no  harm,  only  hopping  to  and  fro, 
so  that  Father  told  the  others  not  to  stop  his  game 
and  at  the  same  time  he  called  out  to  Mother  to 
hurry  into  the  brewhouse  and  shut  the  door 
before  play  had  become  earnest. 

"  But  Mother  paid  no  heed  to  the  warning 
and  at  last  managed  to  give  Big  Billy  such  a 
hard  knock  that  he  felt  it.  Down  he  came  on  all 
fours,  not  that  that  made  it  any  better,  for  now 
he  rushed  into  the  brewhouse  and  used  his  horns 
to  crash  down  every  bottle  and  jug  he  could 
reach.  And  no  sooner  had  dear  Mother  got  in 
after  him  than  he  was  out  again. 

"  Now  Big  Billy  knew  that  he  had  given 
Mother  enough  to  do  with  picking  up  what  he 
had  knocked  down  to  keep  her  out  of  the  way 
for  a  little,  whilst  he  went  on  with  his  joke.  So 


68  Liliecrona's  Home 

he  stood  a  few  seconds  outside  the  brewhouse 
door  looking  round,  and  then  began  to  climb 
quietly  up  the  hill  to  the  big  house. 

"  Big  Billy  generally  had  something  grave 
and  dignified  about  him,  a  gift  by  no  means  to 
be  despised,  for  who  could  possibly  suspect  such 
a  stately  creature  of  even  a  thought  of  mis- 
chief ?  And  never  had  he  looked  so  splendid  as 
now  when  up  he  went  stepping  slowly  along, 
lifting  each  foot  high  and  throwing  his  head  back 
with  his  nose  up  in  the  air,  as  if  to  show  off  his 
great  beard  and  long  horns.  Yet  that  it  was 
not  quite  all  in  earnest  was  plain  enough  by  his 
dancing  eye  and  the  sideward  twist  of  his  hind- 
quarters. 

"  Father  thought  that  Big  Billy  was  off  to 
the  other  goats  behind  the  house,  so  he  called 
out  to  Snow- White  and  the  other  womenkind 
to  get  out  of  the  great  goat's  way  and  not  irri- 
tate him.  But  if  that  had  been  Big  Billy's 
intention,  he  changed  his  mind  as  he  passed  the 
porch  and  saw  that  the  door  had  been  left  wide 
open  when  they  had  all  rushed  out  to  drive  him 
away.  And  just  as  he  was  walking  along  with 
his  most  dignified  step  he  gave  one  spring  up 
the  steps  and  ran  into  the  house. 

"  The  maids  rushed  after  in  a  body  to  drive 
him  out.  Then  he  took  refuge  on  the  garret 
steps  and  when  they  followed  him  up  to  the 
garret,  out  he  jumped  through  the  window 
without  troubling  to  look  first  how  far  it  was 
from  the  ground. 

"  But  his  usual  luck  did  not  forsake  him, 
and  so  it  happened  that  he  hit  upon  the  very 


Snow-White  69 

window  which  was  exactly  above  the  porch 
roof. 

"  It  was  a  little,  steep  roof  with  a  narrow 
ridge  upon  which  Big  Billy  alighted.  He  could 
not  move  an  inch  to  right  or  left  without  falling 
and  it  did  not  seem  possible  either  for  him  to 
turn  back  into  the  garret  again. 

"  '  Get  in  with  you,  Big  Billy,'  cried  dear 
Father  as  he  shook  his  cane  at  him.  But  Big 
Billy  did  not  budge.  The  maids  had  come  out 
again  and  were  in  despair  over  what  might 
happen  to  him.  But  Big  Billy  looked  quite 
pleased.  As  he  turned  his  head  and  winked 
at  them,  it  was  plain  how  greatly  he  enjoyed 
their  terror. 

"  Mother  had  picked  up  her  bottles  and  was 
coming,  rake  in  hand,  to  chastise  Big  Billy. 
When  he  caught  sight  of  her  he  winked  more 
wickedly  than  before  ;  evidently  he  hadn't  the 
slightest  respect  for  dear  Mother. 

"  Once  more  she  struck  at  him  with  the  rake 
and  as  she  did  it  he  gathered  his  feet  together, 
flew  through  the  air  like  an  arrow  and  came 
down  on  the  ground  just  in  front  of  her. 

"  And  no  sooner  was  he  there  than  he  got 
on  his  hind  legs  and  gave  Mother  a  tap  that 
knocked  her  down.  Then  away  rushed  Big 
Billy  to  the  back  garden,  bounded  over  the 
gate  and  spent  the  next  few  hours  dancing  to 
his  wives. 

"  But  no  one  troubled  about  him  just  then. 
They  had  all  rushed  forward  to  help  Mother, 
and  the  first  to  reach  her  was  Snow-White. 
But  Mother  pushed  her  violently  away.  *  Don't 


70  Liliecrona's  Home 

touch  me,'  she  snapped.  '  I  know  your  feelings 
towards  me,  and  can  see  this  just  pleases  you. 
Laugh  away  whilst  you  can.  I  know  something 
that  will  make  you  cry/ 

"  And  it  was  true  enough  that  Snow-White 
had  not  looked  very  much  upset,  for  she  had 
laughed  so  much  at  the  great  goat  that  she  could 
not  be  serious  again  in  a  moment.  But  Mother's 
words  made  her  sad  enough  all  day  long. 

"  And  my  dear  foster-sister  will  easily  under- 
stand that  it  wasn't  this  that  gave  Snow-White 
fresh  courage,  but  a  little  dream  that  she 
dreamt  the  night  after.  For  then  Snow-White 
saw  a  great  goat  standing  again  on  the  porch 
roof,  but  it  was  no  longer  a  real  goat,  but  all  the 
gaiety  and  good  temper  that  had  lived  in  this 
home  of  old,  which  had  crept  out  on  the  roof 
and  was  up  there  openly  defying  Mother.  The 
creature  could  talk  too,  and  told  Mother  that 
she  would  never  be  able  to  work  her  will  and 
turn  this  house  into  a  hard,  cold  prison.  There 
was  too  much  of  its  former  spirit  still  left  in  it 
to  fight  against  her. 

"  And  when  Snow- White  awoke  she  thought 
it  had  all  been  true  and  felt  no  longer  quite  so 
lonely  in  her  struggle  with  dear  Mother." 

"  You  may  be  very  sure  I  shall  take  some 
slices  of  bread  for  Big  Billy  the  next  time  I  go 
to  see  Snow-White,"  said  Anna  Brogren  as  the 
Pastor's  daughter  paused  for  a  moment. 

"  I  am  afraid  the  kind  thought  comes  too 
late,"  said  her  foster-sister.  "  For  Snow-White 
tells  me  in  her  last  letter  that  dear  Mother  has 
sent  him  to  the  butcher." 


Snow- White  7 1 

"  Look  at  that  now,"  said  Anna  Brogren 
thoughtfully,  "  look  at  that  now  !  And  Snow- 
White's  father  let  him  be  killed  without  a 
word  !  I  tell  you,  I  begin  to  think  Snow- 
White's  stepmother  will  do  her  a  mischief." 

But  the  Pastor's  daughter  broke  in  with  a 
hasty :  "  Oh,  it  is  not  the  stepmother  who  hurts 
Snow- White.  On  the  contrary,  she  says  Snow- 
White's  one  thought  is  to  do  her  some  ill." 

"  She  might  know  better." 

"  Everything  goes  wrong  for  Snow- White. 
I  will  just  tell  you  one  thing  more  to  show  you 
how  unfortunate  she  is." 

"  I  should  like  to  hear  the  whole  of  the 
tale,"  said  Anna  Brogren,  "  but  indeed  I  can 
see  well  enough  that  it  is  Snow- White  who  is  in 
danger  and  not  her  stepmother." 

"  There  is  no  need  to  tell  my  dear  foster- 
sister  that  it  was  Snow- White's  Father  who  had 
planted  all  the  Parsonage  grounds.  They  had 
to  thank  him  for  the  gooseberries,  the  currants, 
the  rare  strawberries,  the  great  kitchen  garden 
and  the  little  rose-bed  to  the  west  of  the  house. 
But  the  very  best  in  dear  Father's  orchard  was, 
after  all,  the  apple  trees.  He  had  planted  and 
grafted  them  with  his  own  hands,  and  I  think 
you  might  go  a  long  way  before  you  would  see 
the  like  of  the  fruit  they  bore.  Whenever 
Snow-White  ate  any  of  Father's  apples  she 
always  thought  they  tasted  as  though  they 
were  made  of  nothing  but  sunshine  and  summer 
warmth.  Never  had  Snow-White  seen  such 
beautiful  apples  in  the  orchard  as  this  summer. 
Such  pearmains,  astrachans,  golden  pippins, 


72  Liliecrona's  Home 

Tom  Putts,  codlins,  reinettes  and  winter  apples  ! 
Perhaps  the  trees  were  not  so  heavily  laden  as 
sometimes,  but  their  fruit  was  all  the  finer  for 
it.  Not  a  single  apple  was  worm-eaten,  they 
were  all  alike  big  and  beautiful.  How  trans- 
parent the  skin  of  the  Tom  Putts,  how  golden 
the  pippins,  whilst  every  pearmain  blushed  a 
dark  crimson  and  not  an  astrachan  but  had 
a  bright  rosy  cheek.  The  apples  were  really 
such  a  splendid  crop  that  they  were  the  talk  of 
the  whole  country-side.  They  were  so  big  and 
fine  that  they  brightened  up  the  road  and 
passers-by  used  to  come  down  to  the  house  and 
ask  for  leave  to  go  into  the  orchard  and  look 
at  them. 

"  But  I  must  just  say  that  nice  and  beautiful 
as  apples  are,  they  bring  a  great  deal  of  worry. 
It  is  useless  to  deny  that  in  former  years  a  great 
quantity  of  the  Parsonage  apples  had  been 
stolen,  but  this  year  scarcely  one  was  lost  in  this 
way,  for  Mother  never  wearied  in  her  watch 
over  them.  Ever  since  the  end  of  August, 
when  the  apples  began  to  ripen,  she  had  been 
in  the  orchard  every  evening  on  guard. 

"  But  Mother  did  more  than  this.  She  pro- 
tected the  apples  from  the  home  people  too, 
for  she  had  padlocks  put  on  the  orchard  gates 
and  always  kept  the  keys  in  her  pocket.  If 
she  found  a  specially  big  shiny  nonesuch,  she 
might  perhaps  gather  it  for  dear  Father,  but 
neither  Grandmother  Beata  nor  Snow-White 
ever  got  so  much  as  a  bite. 

"  Yes,  indeed,  in  other  years  the  apples  may 
not  have  been  so  fine,  but  they  had  given  more 


Snow- White  73 

pleasure,  for  there  had  been  no  one  about  the 
house  who  had  not  eaten  their  fill  of  them.  And 
not  only  that,  but  everyone  who  came  to  the 
Parsonage  got  a  taste,  and  most  carried  home 
a  little  basketful  as  well.  Even  when  the 
gathering-time  came,  not  an  apple  was  eaten, 
for  Mother  saw  to  the  work  herself.  She  put  on 
gloves  and  plucked  each  apple  slowly  and  care- 
fully, so  that  they  should  not  be  pinched  or 
bruised. 

"  Snow- White  did  indeed  think  it  was  a  little 
hard  not  to  have  the  apples  whilst  they  still 
had  their  fresh  summer  flavour,  but  she  con- 
soled herself  with  the  thought  of  how  nice  it 
would  be  to  have  them  to  eat  all  the  autumn 
and  winter.  For  no  doubt  Mother  knew  how 
to  keep  them  so  that  they  would  not  decay.  But 
she  soon  learnt  that  dear  Mother  had  other  plans. 
Not  for  one  moment  had  she  thought  of  letting 
the  Parsonage  people  sit  and  eat  her  apples. 

"  Dear  Father,  of  course,  would  have  liked 
to  keep  his  apples  in  his  house  as  he  had  always 
done,  but  dear  Mother  reckoned  they  could 
make  money  by  them.  She  meant  to  sell  all  the 
beautiful  fruit  at  Broby  fair.  And,  of  course, 
Mother  had  her  way.  She  drove  to  the  fair  with 
two  carts  full  of  apples,  and  a  man  and  maid  to 
help  her  sell  them. 

"  When  she  came  to  the  market-place  she 
put  up  her  stall,  opened  her  boxes  and  barrels 
and  laid  out  the  apples.  Mother  was  not  afraid 
of  any  kind  of  work  and  stood  before  her  stall 
with  great  gloves  on  her  hands  and  a  thick 
shawl  knotted  round  her  waist  to  sell  her  fruit 


74  Liliecrona's  Home 

herself.  She  was  not  going  to  trust  this  work 
to  anyone  else.  And  she  might  well  be  proud 
of  such  wares  as  she  had  to  offer. 

"  Her  stall  shone  so  with  red,  white,  green 
and  yellow  that  people  crowded  round  just  for 
the  pleasure  of  looking  at  it.  Now  at  the  big 
Broby  fair  there  were  always  fruit  growers  from 
the  Sormland  mansions  and  from  the  country 
estates  in  Naset,  but  not  one  of  them  had  such 
fine  fruit  as  Mother. 

"  As  soon  as  she  was  ready  to  sell,  everyone 
hurried  up  and  asked  what  she  wanted  for  her 
apples.  But  Mother  asked  so  much  that  they 
were  amazed  and  refused  to  buy. 

"  So  she  had  to  sit  there  with  her  treasure 
and  see  how  the  market  people  bought  instead 
from  her  neighbours.  But  she  would  not  yield, 
nor  lower  her  prices  by  a  single  farthing.  She 
asked  just  double  the  price  of  anyone  else.  No 
doubt  she  thought  she  would  sell  them  later  on 
when  the  strangers  had  got  rid  of  all  theirs. 

"Perhaps,  too,  Mother  reckoned  on  some- 
thing else  as  well.  She  knew  well  enough  how 
much  brandy  was  generally  drunk  at  Broby 
fair,  and  that  after  twelve  o'clock  there  was 
scarcely  a  sober  man  to  be  found,  so  maybe  she 
thought  that  by  afternoon  the  peasant  folk 
wouldn't  be  so  careful  of  their  money.  It 
looked,  too,  as  though  Mother  might  be  right. 
The  later  it  grew,  the  more  people  gathered 
round  her  stall,  at  first,  all  the  small  boys  and 
girls  at  the  fair  with  their  fingers  in  their  mouths 
and  such  pathetic  longing  in  their  faces  for  the 
apples  they  had  no  money  to  buy ;  but  after- 


Snow- White  7  5 

wards  grown-up  people  too  stood  hanging 
about,  as  though  they  could  not  keep  their 
eyes  off  the  fruit.  From  time  to  time  one  and 
another  came  and  asked  the  price,  but  Mother 
stuck  to  her  first  answer  and  asked  as  much 
as  in  the  morning.  She  was  not  going  to  sell 
for  less,  when  everyone  else's  apples  were  all 
gone  ;  her  turn  was  coming  now,  no  doubt  ! 

"  Dear  Mother  saw  the  desire  for  apples  in 
every  face,  and  thought  with  every  passing 
moment :  '  It  will  soon  be  too  much  for  them, 
they  only  want  someone  to  make  a  start.' 

"But  time  went  on  and  on,  and  even  Mother 
must  have  begun  to  think  that  she  would  have  to 
go  home  with  all  her  apples  unsold.  So  she  deter- 
mined to  make  a  last  effort  and  sent  her  maid 
to  look  for  Snow- White,  who  was  away  amongst 
the  stalls  buying  presents  for  all  at  home  who 
had  not  been  able  to  get  to  the  fair. 

"  When  Snow- White  came  back  to  Mother 
she  ordered  her  to  take  her  place  for  a  time 
..and  sell  the  apples.  Mother  had  been  standing 
on  the  same  spot  all  day  long  and  her  feet  were 
so  frozen  that  she  felt  she  must  move  about  a 
little. 

"  It  was  not  with  the  best  will  in  the  world 
that  Snow- White  took  her  place  to  sell  at  Broby 
fair,  but  as  she  did  not  dare  to  say  '  No  '  to 
Mother,  she  tied  the  shawl  round  her  shoulders, 
drew  on  Mother's  gloves,  and  stood  instead  of 
her  before  the  stall.  And  with  many  a  warning 
to  Snow- White  not  to  lower  the  price  for  any- 
one who  wanted  to  drive  a  bargain,  nor  to  eat 
the  apples  herself,  Mother  went  her  way. 


7  6  Liliecrona's  Home 

"  But  if  she  thought  people  would  buy  from 
her  stepdaughter  more  readily  than  from  her 
she  was  mistaken. 

"  Snow- White  just  had  to  stand  there  in  the 
same  way,  guarding  the  apples  without  selling 
a  single  one.  Old  and  young  still  gathered  in 
a  close  ring  round  her,  but  no  one  offered  to 
buy. 

"  Then  a  couple  of  half-tipsy  young  peasants 
came  along  with  their  sweethearts  on  their 
arms  and  forced  their  way  through  the  crowd. 
They  were  excited  and  talking  in  loud  voices 
and  rattling  their  money  as  though  it  burnt 
their  pockets.  Snow- White  was  so  frightened 
of  them  that  she  would  have  liked  to  run  away, 
but  she  stuck  to  her  post  in  the  hope  of  at  last 
selling  something. 

"  But  they  came  up  to  her  and  the  first  of 
them,  without  ever  asking  the  price,  straight- 
way put  his  great  fist  over  a  heap  of  the  best 
apples.  At  the  same  time  he  glanced  at  Snow- 
White  and  tried  to  look  as  sober  and  honest 
as  possible,  whilst  he  asked,  '  Where  do  these 
apples  come  from  ?  '  Snow- White  answered 
that  they  were  from  her  own  home. 

"  '  Yes,  I  have  been  there  many  a  time,' 
said  the  young  fellow,  '  and  I  know  you  and 
your  Father ;  a  nice  man  the  Pastor  is  too.' 

"  Snow- White  gave  a  friendly  answer,  she 
liked  him  for  speaking  well  of  dear  Father. 

"  '  I  know  you  and  he  are  both  kind  folk,' 
went  on  the  farm  man  ;  '  kind  enough  to  let  a 
poor  servant  taste  your  apples  without  paying 
for  them.' 


Snow- White  77 

"  And  before  Snow- White  knew  what  he  was 
about,  he  had  snatched  a  great  handful  of  the 
beautiful  apples  and  rushed  off.  And  the 
sweetheart  on  his  arm  took  some  too  as  she  ran 
after  him  and  so  did  his  friend  and  his  friend's 
sweetheart. 

"  But  poor  Snow- White  had  never  dreamt  of 
such  a  thing  and  was  in  utter  despair  that  they 
had  run  off  with  so  many  apples  and  left  no 
money  instead.  She  wanted  to  run  after  them 
and  get  them  back,  but  she  did  not  dare,  so  she 
sent  the  man  and  maidservant  who  were  stand- 
ing behind  her  to  catch  them  up.  As  they  went 
she  noticed  the  whole  crowd  moving  close  up 
to  the  stall.  '  Now  they  are  coming  to  buy/ 
she  thought,  and  plucked  up  fresh  courage. 

"  But  not  a  bit  of  it  !  They  never  thought 
of  such  a  thing,  but  ran  up,  ten  at  a  time,  and 
took  as  many  apples  as  they  could,  whilst  they 
cried  out  that  she  and  her  Father  were  far  too 
kind  to  ask  poor  folk  to  pay  for  a  couple  of 
apples.  And  the  little  boys  who  had  stood  all 
day  with  their  eyes  on  the  shining  fruit,  pulled 
off  their  caps  and  filled  them,  whilst  the  little 
girls,  who  knew  what  watering  mouths  meant, 
rushed  up  and  swept  scores  of  apples  into  their 
aprons. 

"  Snow- White  threw  herself  over  the  stall 
to  protect  it  with  her  body.  But  what  good 
was  that  ?  And  she  cried  and  entreated  and 
told  them  how  miserable  they  made  her,  but 
who  paid  any  heed  to  her  ?  It  was  not  only 
the  little  boys  and  girls  who  snatched  her 
treasure,  but  grown-up  folk  as  well.  And  how 


78  Liliecrona's  Home 

they  laughed  and  joked  and  thought  it  was  only 
a  little  fair-day  fun,  as  everyone  who  helped 
himself  called  out  to  her  that  she  and  her 
Father  were  far  too  kind  to  grudge  them  a 
couple  of  apples. 

"  Snow- White  struck  out  right  and  left  and 
screamed  for  help,  but  the  apples  were  gone. 

"  The  fair-folk  cleared  her  stall  before  her 
eyes,  overturned  her  boxes  and  barrels,  and  took 
all  the  fruit.  There  were  plenty  of  wild  good- 
for-nothings  at  the  fair  who  came  to  take  their 
part  in  the  fun,  which  soon  ended  in  fisticuffs 
and  blows,  so  that  Snow- White  had  to  leave  her 
wares  to  their  fate  and  run  away  to  escape  being 
trampled  to  death. 

"  Just  then  back  came  Mother  and  found  her 
stepdaughter  robbed  and  weeping  despairing 
tears  of  mingled  fear  and  anger. 

"  Dear  Mother  seized  her  by  the  arm  and 
shook  her  soundly.  '  You  wait  till  we  get  home 
to-night,'  said  she,  '  and  I'll  teach  you  to  give 
away  my  apples.' 

"  Indeed,  it  was  no  wonder  that  Mother  was 
vexed,  still  it  was  hard  that  she  should  think  her 
stepdaughter  had  done  it  on  purpose. 

"  What  a  wretched  home-going  it  was  !  They 
all  sat  in  the  carriage,  Father,  Mother,  and  Snow- 
White,  and  at  first  Father  tried  to  chat  away  as 
usual.  But  Mother  sat  bolt  upright  in  one  corner 
with  tight-shut  lips  and  would  not  utter  a  word, 
whilst  Snow- White  did  nothing  but  cry.  Dear 
Father  couldn't  take  the  loss  of  a  few  apples  so 
much  to  heart  and  he  was  amused  at  the  folk 
calling  out  that  he  was  too  kind  to  grudge  them 


Snow- White  79 

a  couple  of  apples.  He  tried  to  keep  up  his 
spirits  by  talking  to  all  the  other  homegoers  as 
he  passed  them.  He  asked  if  they  had  got  good 
prices  for  their  cows,  what  they  had  given  for 
their  sheep,  and  if  they  had  come  across  any  of 
his  apples. 

"  But  after  a  while  he  grew  strangely  silent. 
He  turned  to  Mother  and  sat  for  a  long  time 
looking  at  her,  then  stared  straight  in  front  of 
him,  and  his  face  grew  all  at  once  very  old  and 
weary. 

"  A  little  later  Snow- White  noticed  that  dear 
Father  looked  long  and  sadly  at  her,  as  though 
he  was  trying  to  read  the  thoughts  of  her  in- 
most heart. 

"  Then  he  said,  '  You  grow  very  like  your 
Mother,'  and  taking  her  hand  in  both  of  his 
he  sat  gently  stroking  it.  It  seemed  as  though 
her  Father  wanted  to  comfort  and  help  her. 
Snow- White  thought :  '  Dear  Father  under- 
stands that  I  did  not  do  it  on  purpose.  He 
knows  I  am  not  like  that.' 

"  Father  held  her  hand  all  the  way  home, 
but  his  head  fell  lower  and  lower,  and  when  the 
carriage  stopped  at  the  door  he  sank  down 
altogether.  Nor  did  he  stir  when  Mother 
and  Snow- White  got  up.  They  thought  he  was 
dead. 

"  But  it  was  not  quite  so  bad  as  that,  although 
it  very  nearly  was." 

The  Pastor's  daughter  stopped  a  moment. 
Her  voice  shook,  and  she  needed  a  little  time 
to  steady  it  before"  she  could  go  on. 

"  Now  you  know  how  I  am  placed,"  she  said. 


80  Liliecrona's  Home 

"  Mother  can  do  what  she  will  to  me  and  I  can- 
not complain  to  dear  Father  for  fear  he  should 
have  another  stroke  as  he  had  when  he  drove 
home  from  the  fair,  thinking  of  the  quarrel 
between  us." 

"  But  can  he  not  see  it  himself  ?  ''' 
"  Maybe  he  sees,  but  he  can  do  nothing. 
Father  is  supposed  to  be  quite  well  again,  but 
I  know  how  weak  he  is.  He  has  no  longer  a 
will  of  his  own.  Never  again  can  dear  Father 
be  what  he  was  that  fine  morning  when  he  and 
I  went  together  to  look  at  the  field  of 


CHAPTER   V 

THE   PASTOR  OF   SVARTSJO 


on  New  Year's  Eve  the  Pastor 
popped  his  head  in  at  the  kitchen  door. 
What  had  they  done  with  little  Stormwind  ? 
He  hadn't  seen  her  out  with  her  toboggan  on  the 
hill.  Surely  they  didn't  mean  to  keep  her  sitting 
indoors  from  morning  to  night  like  the  other 
womenfolk. 

It  was  Little-Maid  he  was  asking  for.  On 
her  very,  first  day  in  Lovdala  he  had  taken  her 
with  him  to  the  tool-house  and  looked  out  a 
sleigh  for  her.  And  every  morning  since  he 
had  come  to  remind  her  to  go  out  and  coast. 

At  the  same  time  he  used  to  take  the  oppor- 
tunity of  teasing  the  housekeeper  and  maids  a 
little  by  asking  them  if  they  really  preferred 
sitting  shut  up  in  the  kitchen  all  day. 

But  this  time  he  quickly  got  his  answer  that 
the  child  had  meant  to  go  out  as  usual,  but  her 
mother  had  just  come  to  see  her.  So  Little- 
Maid  had  taken  her  to  the  dairy  to  look  at  the 
cows. 

The  Pastor  stepped  back  and  shut  the  door. 
He  stood  still  for  a  minute  or  two  thinking,  then 
turned  his  steps  to  the  dairy. 

The    kitchen-folk   followed   him    with    their 

G  81 


8a  Liliecrona's  Home 

eyes  as  he  went.  He  looked  old  and  weak  after 
his  illness  in  the  autumn,  but  it  was  an  under- 
stood thing  that  he  must  speak  to  everyone 
who  came  to  the  house,  so  it  was  some  time 
before  he  could  get  as  far  as  Marit  of  Koltorp. 
To  begin  with,  Long-Bengt  called  out  to  him 
that  a  man  had  just  brought  a  sick  horse  to  ask 
if  the  Pastor  knew  of  any  remedy.  And  as  soon 
as  he  had  attended  to  the  horse,  up  came  two 
peasants  who  had  to  divide  an  inheritance  and 
wanted  him  to  say  how  much  each  ought  to 
have,  so  that  they  need  not  take  the  matter 
into  court.  And  it  took  a  good  hour  before 
he  could  settle  the  matter  sufficiently  to  offer 
them  a  drink  to  seal  their  agreement. 

Meanwhile  Little-Maid  was  sitting  in  a  dark 
corner  of  the  dairy  talking  to  her  mother,  each 
of  them  on  a  milking-stool,  and  Little-Lad  on 
his  sister's  lap.  He  had  been  so  pleased  to  see 
her  again  that  there  was  no  getting  him  away. 

Mother  and  her  little  son  had  stayed  on  a 
few  days  at  Nugord,  but  now  they  were  going 
home  and  had  taken  the  longer  road  past 
Lovdala  to  see  how  Little-Maid  was  getting  on. 

Little-Maid  had  surely  never  before  felt  such 
happiness  as  when  she  saw  her  mother  step  into 
the  kitchen,  coming  as  she  did  in  the  very  nick 
of  time  to  help  her  in  her  great  trouble. 

When  they  got  down  to  the  dairy  Mother 
had,  first  of  all,  to  say  what  she  thought  of  the 
new  tale  of  Snow- White  that  Little-Maid  had 
been  lying  listening  to  for  the  last  two  nights. 
Was  it  possible  that  the  Pastor's  daughter  had 
been  talking  of  herself  ? 


I 

The  Pastor  of  Svartsjo  8  3 

When  Little-Maid  had  told  it  all  as  well  as 
she  could,  her  Mother  was  silent  for  a  long 
time,  but  at  last  she  said  :  "I  expect  they  did 
not  think  you  were  wise  enough  to  understand 
what  they  said.  But  as  you  were,  you  must 
just  show  you  are  wise  enough  too,  not  to  re- 
peat it." 

But  that  was  not  all.  Little-Maid  had  some- 
thing else  upon  her  mind  as  well.  Yesterday 
morning  the  Pastor's  wife  had  come  to  her  and 
asked  so  gently  and  kindly  if  she  was  happy, 
or  if  she  felt  homesick.  No,  indeed,  of  course 
she  was  happy  and  so  comfortable.  And  she 
did  so  love  the  hens. 

"  Oh,  yes,"  laughed  the  Pastor's  wife  ;  "  and 
is  there  no  one  else  you  love  besides  the  hens  ?  " 

Indeed,  yes ;  Little-Maid  loved  the  Pastor's 
daughter  as  well. 

And  the  Pastor's  wife  had  laughed  again. 
Why  was  it  that  she  loved  Mamsell  Maia 
Lisa  ? 

"  Because  she  talked  so  beautifully." 

"  Well  now,"  said  the  Pastor's  wife.  "  Can 
you  understand  how  she  knows  all  she  tells 
you  ?  " 

"  I  expect  she  finds  it  in  the  books  that  she 
sits  reading  at  night,"  was  Little-Maid's  answer. 

"  Oh,  she  sits  reading  at  night,  does  she  ?  ' 
asked  the  Pastor's  wife  in  the  same  gentle  tone. 
"  Then  I  suppose  she  has  a  candle." 

"  She  reads  by  some  light,  I  know,"  answered 
Little-Maid. 

Now  that  night  no  sooner  had  the  Pastor's 
daughter  and  Little-Maid  eot  into  bed  than 


84  Liliecrona's  Home 

the  Pastor's  wife  came  in  as  usual  and  took  away 
their  candle. 

But  when  the  house  was  quiet,  the  Pastor's 
daughter  got  up  and  fetched  the  tallow  candle 
which  she  had  hidden  in  the  great  grandfather 
clock,  crept  out  into  the  kitchen,  blew  up  the 
embers  in  the  grate  to  get  a  light  and  sat  down 
to  read.  She  had  a  brother  away  in  Upsala  who 
used  to  write  verses  and  send  them  to  her,  for 
he  knew  she  was  desperately  fond  of  such 
things.  And  to-night  she  was  learning  them  by 
heart.  She  must  have  been  reading  something 
very  beautiful  for  she  did  not  hear  the  door 
open,  and  never  lifted  her  head  until  the  Pastor's 
wife  stood  over  her  and  stretched  out  her  hand 
to  take  the  light  from  the  candlestick. 

"  I  suppose  you  want  to  bring  us  all  to  the 
poorhouse,"  said  her  stepmother,  "  sitting  here 
burning  a  light  all  night.  Where  did  you  get 
it  from  ?  " 

"It  is  not  dear  Mother's  candle,"  said  the 
Pastor's  daughter. 

"  Whoever  it  belongs  to,  I'll  see  to  it  that  you 
don't  sit  here  bringing  us  to  poverty,"  said  her 
stepmother.  "I'll  teach  you  to  waste  the 
candles,  I  can  tell  you." 

With  this  she  went  away,  but  soon  came  back 
with  a  great  piece  of  linen  over  her  arm. 

"  Since  you  like  sitting  up  at  night,"  she  said, 
"  you  can  at  any  rate  make  yourself  useful.  See 
to  it  that  this  sheet  is  seamed  up  by  to-morrow 
morning." 

And  then  she  did  go,  but  her  stepdaughter 
had  to  sit  up  all  night  over  her  sewing. 


The  Pastor  of  Svartsjo  85 

And  someone  else  had  no  sleep  either,  and 
that  was  Little-Maid,  who  lay  there  reproaching 
herself  for  having  ever  said  that  the  Pastor's 
daughter  used  to  sit  up  reading  at  night. 

And  this  was  why  she  had  been  so  glad  to  see 
her  mother. 

She  could  picture  no  greater  misfortune  than 
that  Mamsell  Maia  Lisa  should  get  to  know 
what  she  had  done,  and  she  begged  her  mother 
to  take  her  home.  She  could  not  stay  at  the 
Parsonage. 

Mother  reminded  her  how  comfortable  she 
was,  but  Little-Maid  did  not  mind  being  cold 
and  hungry  if  only  she  could  get  away  before  the 
Pastor's  daughter  was  angry  with  her.  But 
Mother  insisted  she  should  stay.  "  Raklitza 
shan't  go  on  domineering  like  this  long,"  she 
said.  "  I  will  speak  to  the  Pastor  myself.  I 
have  known  him  many  a  long  day  and  I  think 
he'll  believe  me." 

At  that  moment  Little-Lad  pointed  to  the 
door.  "  There's  someone  standing  there,"  he 
said. 

Little-Maid  and  her  mother  turned  round  at 
once.  There  stood  the  Pastor  in  the  shadow 
a  few  paces  from  them,  leaning  motionless 
against  the  wall.  They  were  so  terrified  that 
they  did  not  venture  to  get  up  and  say  good 
morning.  When  had  he  come  and  how  much 
had  he  heard  ? 

"  Marit,  come  along  with  your  milking- 
stool,"  he  said  in  a  weak  voice. 

She  hurried  up  with  the  little  stool,  and  he 
sank  down  on  it. 


86  Liliecrona's  Home 

"  Don't  fetch  anyone,"  said  the  Pastor ; 
"  it  is  only  a  giddy  turn ;  you  know  I  have 
had  them  all  my  life." 

They  stood  helpless  before  him.  Marit  of 
Koltorp  was  astounded  to  see  how  old  he  had 
grown.  She  had  not  noticed  it  so  much  at  her 
brother's  Christmas  dinner,  but  now  she  saw 
how  thin  and  shrunken  he  looked. 

"  It  isn't  dangerous,"  he  went  on  ;  "  but  it 
comes  pretty  often  nowadays.  You  see,  Marit, 
I  am  about  done  for." 

Very  soon  after  he  got  up.  "  Don't  say  any- 
thing about  it  up  at  the  house,"  he  said,  as  he 
went  out  of  the  dairy  with  bent  head  and  falter- 
ing steps. 


CHAPTER   VI 

THE   MAGIC   PANCAKE 

TATE  on  New  Year's  Eve  the  Pastor's 
L/  daughter  came  walking  down  the  hill- 
side to  the  brewhouse  room  where  her  Grand- 
mother, Fru  Beata  Spaak,  had  lived  for  many 
a  long  year. 

She  was  leading  Little-Maid  by  the  hand,  and 
you  could  hear  them  coming,  a  long  way  off, 
by  the  little  shrill  screams  they  uttered  every 
time  they  lost  the  path  and  stepped  into  the 
snow-drift  at  the  edge.  It  was  foggy  and  pitch 
dark,  without  the  least  glimmer  from  moon 
or  stars,  and,  but  for  the  tiny  glint  of  light 
through  Grandmother's  shutters,  they  could 
scarcely  have  groped  their  way  to  the  brew- 
house. 

That  Christmas  there  had  been  so  dreadfully 
many  feasts  both  for  rich  and  poor  that  the 
days  had  been  only  too  short  for  them  all. 
The  Pastor  and  his  wife  had  even  been  obliged 
to  go  away  on  New  Year's  Eve,  but  Mamsell 
Maia  Lisa  had  not  gone  with  them  as  she 
usually  did. 

She  had  been  ordered  to  stay  at  home  and 
see  that  the  men  and  maids  were  property  pro- 
vided with  the  same  quantity  of  fish  and 

87 


88  Liliecrona's  Home 

porridge  as  on  Christmas  Eve,  just  as  if  the  old 
housekeeper  could  not  have  managed  it  all 
quite  well. 

But,  in  spite  of  this,  the  Pastor's  daughter 
was  in  very  good  spirits.  A  good  part  of  the 
afternoon  she  had  been  telling  tales  and  singing 
folk-songs  to  Little-Maid,  who  had  surely  never 
enjoyed  herself  so  much  before.  After  supper, 
Mamsell  Maia  Lisa  had  point-blank  refused  to 
go  to  bed.  She  said,  on  New  Year's  Eve,  she 
would,  at  any  rate,  try  to  peep  a  little  into  the 
futuie  before  she  went  to  sleep.  Wouldn't 
Little-Maid  like  to  help  make  a  magic  pan- 
cake ? 

Little-Maid  had  no  idea  what  a  magic  pan- 
cake was,  but  she  said  "  yes  "  at  once,  and  she 
would  have  said  the  same  even  if  Mamsell 
Maia  Lisa  had  invited  her  to  help  make  a 
viper  soup. 

"  But  you  mustn't  speak  nor  laugh  all  the 
time  we  are  making  it,"  said  the  Pastor's 
daughter,  "  and  you  mustn't  spill  on  to  the 
floor  the  least  drop  of  water  or  grain  of  flour  or 
salt." 

"  What  is  there  hard  in  that  ?  "  said  Little- 
Maid.  She  could  keep  from  talking  or  laughing 
as  long  as  ever  she  wanted. 

But  then  came  the  difficulty  that  there 
must  be  three  to  help  in  the  making,  and  the 
Pastor's  daughter  had  no  idea  where  she  was 
to  find  the  third. 

They  went  into  the  kitchen  and  asked  if 
there  was  anyone  there  who  would  help  make  a 
magic  pancake,  But  the  maids  only  threw 


The  Magic  Pancake  89 

up  their  hands  and  declined  when  they  heard 
the  question. 

They  had  done  enough  of  that  in  their  day. 
After  they  had  eaten  the  magic  pancake,  they 
had  had  neither  sleep  nor  dreams,  and  they 
were  not  going  to  be  tempted  to  try  such  a  dish 
again  ! 

The  Pastor's  daughter  stood  and  thought 
and  thought. 

"  We  shall  have  to  go  down  and  ask  Grand- 
mother to  help  us,"  she  said. 

And  this  was  why  they  were  out  on  that  dark 
New  Year's  Eve  picking  their  way  amongst 
the  snow-drifts.  But  the  Pastor's  daughter 
thought  it  only  fitting  that  a  New  Year's 
Eve  should  be  pitchy  dark,  a  true  picture  of 
that  future  which  no  eye  can  pierce. 

Grandmother  lived  in  a  garret  room  above 
the  brewhouse.  How  hard  it  was  to  climb 
the  stairway,  built  out,  as  it  was,  from  the  wall, 
with  its  narrow  steep  steps  so  slippery  now  with 
trampled  snow  that  to  tread  on  them  was 
almost  to  risk  one's  life. 

But  everyone  had  to  get  used  to  the  dark  at 
Lovdala,  for  the  Pastor's  wife  allowed  no 
lights  except  in  the  dairy  and  stable.  However, 
Grandmother  must  have  heard  them  coming, 
for  when  they  were  half-way  up  the  stair  she  set 
the  door  wide  open.  And  she  had  her  branched 
candlestick  alight  on  the  table  before  the  sofa 
and  the  fire  crackling  in  the  stove. 

Grandmother  was  tall  and  thin  and  looked 
delicate.  She  was  not  at  all  like  the  Pastor's 
daughter  in  face,  nor  could  she  very  well  be, 


go  Liliecrona's  Home 

for  she  was  only  her  Mother's  stepmother.  But 
she  was  just  as  fond  of  her  as  if  she  had  been  her 
own  flesh  and  blood.  It  seemed  as  though  Fru 
Beata  had  some  special  art  of  her  own,  for 
whatever  it  might  be  like  in  other  places,  in  her 
home  it  was  always  warm,  bright,  and  tidy. 
She  had  but  the  one  room,  where  she  lived  and 
slept ;  but  her  bed,  with  its  white  curtains 
hanging  down  from  a  gilded  curtain-rod,  was 
an  ornament  in  itself,  and  the  same  might  be 
said  of  her  bright  little  copper  pans  and  china 
plates  and  dishes  in  the  corner  cupboard. 
She  was  refined  and  graceful  herself ;  but  her 
hands  were  so  tortured  with  gout,  that  her 
fingers  were  twisted  and  stiff;  so  twisted, 
indeed,  that  it  was  no  easy  matter  to  shake 
hands  with  her,  for  it  was  almost  impossible 
to  get  a  firm  hold  of  them. 

The  Pastor's  daughter  told  their  errand,  and 
Grandmother,  with  a  smile,  promised  her  help. 
There  was  someone  she  was  just  expecting, 
and  she  would  like  to  know  if  he  was  coming 
next  year. 

It  was  best,  of  course,  to  stay  in  Grand- 
mother's room  and  make  the  pancake  there. 
First  they  took  down  a  dish  out  of  the  little 
corner  cupboard  behind  the  stove,  all  three 
holding  on  to  the  edge  and  putting  it  on  the 
little  kitchen  table.  Then  they  must  get  a 
wooden  spoon,  so  all  three  went  to  the  little 
corner  cupboard  which  served  as  Grandmother's 
china  pantry,  all  three  held  the  spoon-handle, 
and  laid  it  on  the  dish.  Next  they  poured  in 
three  spoonfuls  of  water  which  all  three  fetched 


The  Magic  Pancake  91 

from  the  great  copper  pitcher,  and  no  one 
spoke  or  laughed  as  they  went  about  their 
work. 

That  done,  three  spoonfuls  of  flour  had  to  go 
into  the  water.  All  three  held  the  spoon  as 
they  dipped  it  into  the  flour-tub,  all  three 
lifted  it  up,  and  emptied  the  flour  into  the 
water.  No  one  left  hold  of  the  spoon,  no  one 
spoke,  no  one  laughed,  and  no  one  let  the 
least  grain  of  flour  drop  to  the  ground.  Then 
they  added  three  spoonfuls  of  salt,  and  again 
not  a  word,  nor  a  laugh,  nor  a  single  grain 
spilt. 

But  will  you  believe  that  when  they  had  got 
as  far  as  that  Grandmother  asked  if  it  must 
be  put  straightway  into  the  frying-pan  ! 

The  moment  she  asked  the  question,  down 
went  the  spoon,  and  the  Pastor's  daughter 
threw  herself  on  a  chair  and  laughed  and 
laughed.  Little-Maid  kept  her  fingers  on  it 
indeed,  but  was  so  overcome  with  the  fun  that 
she  had  to  fall  on  the  floor  and  have  her  laugh 
out  there !  Grandmother's  lips  twitched  a 
little  too ;  perhaps  the  words  wouldn't  have 
slipped  out  if  she  had  not  remembered  of  old 
that  there  was  no  fun  at  all  in  making  a  dream 
pancake,  unless  some  such  little  misfortune 
happened.  And  she  liked  to  see  the  Pastor's 
daughter  forget  all  her  troubles  and  have  a 
little  laugh. 

And  when  they  had  laughed  their  fill  they 
set  about  their  work  once  more,  for  nothing 
that  they  had  prepared  was  of  any  more  use, 
and  they  had  to  begin  again  from  the  beginning. 


92  Liliecrona's  Home 

But  that  was  not  so  easy  when  they  were  once 
well  overcome  with  laughter. 

First  they  poured  three  spoonfuls  of  water 
into  the  dish.  They  got  no  farther  before 
they  burst  out  laughing  again.  The  Pastor's 
daughter  was  the  worst.  Little-Maid  was  not 
nearly  so  bad  as  she.  But  for  fully  five  minutes 
more  they  were  helpless  with  merriment.  Then 
the  Pastor's  daughter  told  the  others  that  they 
really  must  behave  properly  or  the  magic 
pancake  would  not  be  ready  till  all  hours  of 
the  night. 

"  I  fancy  we  shall  manage,"  said  Grand- 
mother, "  if  only  you  can  be  serious  yourself." 

First  they  put  in  the  water,  then  the  flour 
and  then  the  salt,  and  stirred  it  all  up  into  a 
dough.  All  three  held  the  spoon  whilst  they 
stirred  with  never  a  word,  never  a  laugh,  nor 
the  least  drop  spilt  on  the  floor.  When  they 
had  rolled  it  into  a  pancake  they  laid  it  in  the 
frying-pan.  And  it  didn't  look  a  bit  tastier 
than  the  mess  of  meal  that  fowls  and  pigs 
get  for  their  breakfast.  It  was  really  not  so 
good,  for  it  was  quite  stiff  and  hard,  and 
glistening  with  all  the  salt  they  had  put  in. 

They  put  it  on  the  fire  and  let  one  side  cook 
and  then  turned  it,  all  holding  the  spoon,  all 
helping  to  turn,  and  no  one  dropping  it  in  the 
cinders.  At  last  it  was  ready  and  had  to  be 
eaten. 

The  Pastor's  daughter  and  Little-Maid  were 
by  this  time  so  eager  that  there  was  not  the 
least  danger  of  their  laughing.  They  were 
too  busy  thinking  that  now  they  might  perhaps 


The  Magic  Pancake  93 

get  a  glimpse  into  the  far  future  to  be  willing 
to  throw  away  such  a  great  opportunity. 

The  dream  pancake  shone  so  with  salt  that 
it  needed  some  courage  to  taste  it.  But  they 
divided  it  into  three  portions,  and  then  ate 
them  as  best  they  could.  Little-Maid  ate  up 
her  share,  for  she  knew  that  was  the  proper 
way,  and  she  was  very  particular  to  carry  out 
all  directions.  Grandmother  only  tasted  a 
tiny,  tiny  bit,  and  it  is  not  certain  that  she 
swallowed  it  either.  The  Pastor's  daughter 
ate  just  one  mouthful,  for  much  as  she  wished 
to  know  the  future,  she  was  really  not  able  to 
get  down  a  single  crumb  more.  The  two  girls 
were  both  a  little  disappointed  in  the  magic 
pancake,  but  not  a  word  did  either  of  them  say. 
They  only  nodded  good  night  to  Grandmother 
as  she  stood  in  the  doorway  silently  lighting 
them  down  the  stair. 

They  tore  at  full  speed  over  the  path  up  the 
garden,  for  the  night  no  longer  seemed  so  dark 
and  impenetrable  as  before,  but  rather  as  if  it 
was  waiting  to  draw  aside  the  veil,  and  show 
them  all  its  hidden  secrets,  but  they  dared  not 
stay  to  look. 

The  maids  were  already  in  bed  when  they 
crept  through  the  kitchen,  but,  of  course, 
they  all  asked  them  how  they  had  got  on,  if  they 
had  dreamed  yet,  and  whom  they  had  dreamt 
about.  But  all  to  no  purpose,  for  not  a  word 
was  to  be  got  out  of  them. 

Little-Maid's  eyes  closed  as  she  lay  down,  and 
she  slept  till  next  morning.  When  she  did 
awake  she  had  a  salt  taste  in  her  mouth,  but 


94  Liliecrona's  Home 

try  as  she  might  she  could  not  remember  any 
dream  at  all.  Grandmother  did  not  sleep  at 
all,  but  next  day  she  sat  quiet  and  silent  as 
thonigh  still  in  a  dream ;  it  seemed  as  if  she 
rea  ly  must  have  learnt  something.  Neither 
was  the  Pastor's  daughter  able  to  get  much 
sleep,  for  she  had  been  so  parched  with  thirst, 
and  yet  it  would  never  have  done  to  drink 
anything  before  she  fell  asleep — even  a  single 
drop  would  have  spoilt  the  whole  charm. 
When  she  awoke  in  the  morning  she  could  not 
clearly  recollect  if  she  had  dreamt  anything. 

But,  later  in  the  day,  she  chanced  to  go  out 
into  the  porch.  And  then  she  stopped  short, 
for  she  remembered  that  the  night  before  in 
her  dream  she  had  stood  just  on  the  same  spot. 
And  as  she  stood  there  two  strangers — an  old 
man  and  a  young — had  come  walking  up  the 
gravel  path.  And  the  old  one  had  said  that 
he  was  Pastor  Liliecrona,  and  had  come  with 
his  son  to  ask  if  she  was  thirsty  and  would  like 
a  drink  of  water.  And  the  young  man  had 
stepped  forward  at  once  with  a  glass  of  clear 
fresh  water  in  his  hand,  and  offered  it  to  her. 

But  when  the  Pastor's  daughter  remembered 
this  she  was  so  filled  with  amazement  that  she 
trembled  in  every  limb.  For  if  one  thing  is 
sure  and  certain  it  is  that  he  who  steps  forward 
and  offers  you  water  in  your  dream  after  the 
magic  pancake,  he  and  he  alone  will  in  time  to 
come  be  your  wedded  husband. 


CHAPTER   VII 

THE  BRIDE'S  DANCE 

ON  Twelfth-Night  the  Pastor  and  his  wife 
had  been  to  church,  and  were  now  on 
their  way  home  after  the  service.  She  was  half- 
frozen  in  the  sleigh  after  sitting  still  for  two 
hours  in  the  cold  church.  How  glad  she  was 
to  know  that  they  did  not  need  to  drive  all 
the  way  home  to  Lovdala,  but  could  break  their 
journey  at  Lobyn,  where  they  were  bidden 
to  the  wedding  feast  of  a  well-to-do  peasant. 
They  would  be  saved  at  least  a  quarter  of  their 
cold  drive.  She  could  think  of  nothing  else, 
but  how  annoying  it  was  that  the  Parsonage 
lay  away  at  the  far  end  of  the  parish,  all  but 
six  whole  miles  from  the  church.  The  church 
itself  was  well  situated  in  the  middle  of  the 
parish,  and  was  easily  reached  from  every 
direction.  Not  so  the  Parsonage,  which  was 
a  good  twelve  miles  from  all  the  houses  lying 
far  away  to  the  south  of  the  parish.  And  how 
difficult  it  was  for  the  Pastor's  wife  to  get  to 
church  every  Sunday,  as  was  but  fit  and  proper  ! 
It  took  a  good  four  hours  before  she  could  get 
home  again ;  and  on  Communion  Sundays 
maybe  even  five  or  six.  And  when  she  got 
home  she  was  quite  certain  to  find  the  old 

95 


g6  Liliecrona's  Home 

housekeeper  had  cooked  the  dinner  too  soon, 
so  that  it  had  been  waiting  several  hours  and 
everything  was  dried  up  and  burnt. 

The  same  thoughts  filled  her  mind  every  time 
she  had  to  drive  home  from  church  cold  and 
hungry.  If  she  could  only  manage  by  some 
means  or  other  to  get  a  shorter  way  to  church. 
If  it  had  only  been  a  question  of  inducing  the 
parishioners  to  sell  the  old  Parsonage  and 
build  a  new  one  nearer  the  church,  that  in 
itself  would  have  been  difficult  enough.  But 
it  was  a  much  more  intricate  matter  than  that. 

Good  gracious,  how  vexatious  it  was  that 
Svartsjo  was,  to  begin  with,  only  an  offshoot 
of  the  great  Church  of  Bro  !  From  very  early 
times  it  had  been  ordained  that  the  rural  dean 
of  Bro  should  also  be  the  rector  of  Svartsjo, 
and  get  half  the  stipend,  and,  of  course,  no 
change  was  possible  in  such  an  old-established 
custom  as  that.  Or  else,  it  really  did  seem 
as  though  her  husband  who  had  all  the  work 
ought  also  to  have  all  the  stipend.  But  he 
was  only  an  assistant  pastor,  and  had  to  be 
content  with  the  usual  assistant  stipend.  And 
the  congregation  was  but  a  small  and  poor  one, 
so  that  if  their  Pastor  had  only  had  what  they 
gave  him  to  live  on,  he  would  have  been  a 
pauper  indeed. 

If  the  Pastor  of  Svartsjo  happened  to  be  a 
little  better  off  than  other  assistant  ministers 
it  was  only  because  he  not  only  had  a  house 
of  his  own,  but  enough  land  to  give  him  his 
living.  If  he  had  not  had  that,  he  would  have 
been  in  a  poor  case  indeed.  Of  course  she  was 


The  Bride's  Dance  97 

glad  that  he  owned  Lovdala ;  indeed  she 
would  be  the  last  to  grumble  about  it.  It  was  a 
fine  property  with  a  nice  house  and  good  land. 
Its  only  fault  was  that  it  lay  so  far  from  the 
church.  Yet  not  quite  the  only  fault !  There 
was  just  one  more.  Those  who  lived  on  it 
seemed  to  think  themselves  a  little  better 
than  other  folk.  She,  who  had  seen  really 
great  places,  could  only  laugh  at  the  very  idea, 
but  in  the  parish  it  was  reckoned  quite  a 
distinction  to  live  at  Lovdala.  Even  the 
Countess  at  Borg  was  not  thought  so  much 
of  as  the  Pastor's  family. 

For  her  part  she  could  never  understand  how 
that  had  come  about. 

A  hundred  years  ago  the  whole  of  Lovdala 
had  been  nothing  but  a  peasant-holding.  It 
may  have  been  large  and  rich  enough,  for  no 
doubt  they  had  splendid  pasture  lands  on  the 
bed  of  the  old  lake.  But  all  the  same  it  had 
been  a  peasant-holding  and  nothing  more, 
and  she  would  almost  have  said  it  was  nothing 
more  even  now.  Up  there  in  Varmland,  of 
course,  there  was  nobody  who  knew  what  a 
real  gentleman's  country-seat  looked  like. 

It  was  nothing  remarkable  that  the  rich 
peasant's  son  should  manage  to  study  and  pass 
a  contemptible  priest's  examination,  and  become 
assistant  pastor  of  Svartsjo.  Neither  was  there 
anything  astounding  in  his  marrying  one  of  the 
rural  dean's  daughters.  After  all,  he  had  never  got 
any  farther  than  Lovdala,  but  had  stayed  there 
all  his  life.  He  was  said  to  have  been  a  clever 
man,  but  that  was  hard  to  believe,  or  else  he 


98  Liliecrona's  Home 

would  surely  have  been  made  Pastor  of  some 
larger  place. 

No  doubt  he  had  been  very  comfortably  off, 
for  he  had  inherited  Lovdala  from  his  parents 
and  could  live  there.  He  had  not  needed  to 
go,  hat  in  hand,  to  the  peasants  for  their 
tithes  and  offerings.  He  lived  on  his  own 
property,  was  quite  independent,  and  as  good 
as  any  one  of  them.  And  that,  no  doubt,  had 
been  as  much  to  their  liking  as  to  his. 

During  the  lifetime  of  this  first  Lovdala 
pastor  there  had  been  indeed  no  parsonage 
belonging  to  the  parish,  but  there  was  one  now, 
a  small  property  adjoining  Lovdala. 

It  seemed  to  her  pure  stupidity  of  the 
peasants  to  build  the  Parsonage  there.  They 
had  not  troubled  the  least  that  the  Pastor  had 
so  far  to  go  to  the  church.  They  had  had  quite 
another  object  in  view,  and  that  they  had 
achieved.  The  second  Pastor  had  married  the 
first's  daughter,  and  inherited  and  lived  in 
Lovdala.  In  this  way  he  too  had  become  a 
well-to-do  peasant-holder  of  independent  means, 
and  not  simply  a  poor  assistant  minister.  And 
he  too  had  stayed  all  his  life  in  Svartsjo.  He 
was  said  to  have  been  a  remarkable  preacher, 
but  she  did  not  believe  that  either.  She 
imagined  that  it  was  only  because  he  had 
married  one  of  their  own  Pastor's  daughters 
and  lived  at  Lovdala  that  the  Svartsjo  folk 
insisted  upon  his  great  gifts  of  oratory. 

The  Pastor's  wife  raised  her  muff  and  covered 
her  face.  The  road  went  straight  over  the  old 
lake-bed,  and  the  cold  breeze  always  blowing 


The  Bride's  Dance  99 

there  nipped  her  ears.    But  her  thoughts  only 
travelled  the  faster. 

It  was  plainly  enough  only  the  fact  that  the 
pastors  of  the  parish  must  of  necessity  live  at 
Lovdala,  which  made  it  so  impossible  to  get 
a  shorter  road  to  church.  Her  husband  was 
now  the  third  Pastor  in  succession  who  lived 
there.  He  had  acted  in  the  same  way  as  his 
predecessors,  married  the  Pastor's  daughter 
and  inherited  the  estate.  He  had  made  his 
home  in  Lovdala,  but  the  Parsonage  ground 
was  so  close  that  he  could  quite  well  manage 
that  too,  and  with  his  two  properties  he  was  a 
well-to-do  man.  This  was  such  a  good  arrange- 
ment that  there  was  not  a  soul  in  the  parish 
but  wished  its  continuance  as  long  as  Svartsjo 
had  a  pastor  and  people.  She  could  not  deny 
that  it  had  been  a  capital  thing  for  the  other 
Lovdala  pastors,  for  she  did  not  believe  that 
they  had  been  fit  for  anything  better  than 
to  stay  here  all  their  lives.  But  it  was  a  never- 
ending  pity  that  her  husband  had  lost  his 
heart  to  both  property  and  parish  and  was 
still  here.  For  she  would  wager  her  life  that 
he  could  have  had  the  best  living  in  the  diocese 
any  day  if  he  had  chosen  to  take  it.  She  knew 
exactly  why  he  liked  Svartsjo  so  much.  Since 
the  same  family  had  been  pastors  of  the  parish 
for  so  many  years,  and  since  both  Pastors  and 
Pastors'  wives  had  been  so  much  beloved,  they 
had  got  into  a  position  of  great  authority. 
No  one  undertook  anything  at  all  without  first 
going  to  the  Parsonage  for  advice,  and  that 
was  what  he  liked.  Once  she  had  mentioned 


ioo  Liliecrona's  Home 

to  him  that  he  might  have  had  a  larger  church. 
Yes,  he  agreed,  but  then  perhaps  he  would  not 
have  had  so  much  influence.  Here  he  thought 
he  ruled  over  the  whole  parish. 

It  was,  Indeed,  no  easy  matter  to  change  all 
this.  No  doubt  it  was  a  capital  thing  for  a 
young  minister  to  marry  one  of  the  daughters 
of  the  Lovdala  Pastor.  He  got  a  competence 
at  once,  an  easily  worked  parish,  and,  for  the 
rest,  did  not  everyone  say  that  to  get  a  wife  as 
beautiful  and  capable  as  any  of  the  daughters 
of  the  Lovdala  Parsonage  was  a  fortune  in 
itself  ?  That  might  be  true  enough  of  those 
who  had  lived  there  before  her  time,  but  as 
far  as  Maia  Lisa  was  concerned,  it  certainly 
was  not  a  fact.  The  Pastor's  wife  saw  no  beauty 
in  her  long  face,  nor  could  she  see  that  she  was 
fit  for  anything  either.  Of  course  she  was 
doing  her  best  now  to  improve  her,  but  she  got 
no  help  in  that  from  anyone,  scarcely  even 
from  her  Father,  who  ought  to  have  been  the 
first  to  wish  his  daughter  to  grow  into  a  sensible 
creature  with  thoughts  for  something  besides 
play.  All  the  same  she  meant  to  do  her  duty 
by  her.  There  were  not  many  who  would 
venture  to  correct  the  heiress  to  Lovdala  and 
to  the  whole  parish. 

The  air  round  them  resounded  with  the  tink- 
ling of  bells,  for  here  in  Lobyn  there  were  four 
cross-roads,  and  sleighs  were  coming  from  all 
directions  bringing  guests  to  the  wedding. 
It  was  evidently  going  to  be  a  grand  affair. 
What  a  mercy  she  had  managed  to  prevent  her 
stepdaughter  from  coming  with  them  !  It  was 


The  Bride's  Dance  101 

just  in  these  old  peasant-houses  that  they 
made  the  most  fuss  of  her.  It  was  only  to  be 
expected  that  she  should  grow  idle  and  haughty, 
and  begin  to  think  she  could  do  whatever  she 
chose.  Yes,  indeed,  she  was  the  best  judge 
of  what  was  good  for  her.  But  for  the  present 
she  was  not  going  to  say  so,  not  even  to  herself. 
Perhaps,  however,  she  might  be  able  to  kill 
two  birds  with  one  stone ;  might  get,  maybe, 
a  shorter  road  to  church  and,  at  the  same  time, 
teach  her  stepdaughter  that  she  was  no  princess, 
but  only  a  poor,  insignificant  Pastor's  daughter. 
.  .  .  There  now,  had  she  not  known  that  she 
would  have  to  put  up  with  all  this  ?  She  had 
not  crossed  the  threshold  before  everyone 
began  asking  why  the  Pastor's  daughter  had 
not  come  too.  Before  she  had  unbuttoned  her 
fur  coat  she  had  to  explain,  at  least  ten  times, 
how  tiresome  it  was  that  Maia  Lisa  would  not 
leave  her  old  Grandmother  alone  at  home. 
Most  inquirers  were  satisfied  with  this  answer, 
but  the  givers  of  the  wedding-feast  wanted  a 
better  reason  than  that.  Old  Biorn  Hindriksson 
and  his  wife  had  had  to  work  away  for  many  a 
long  year  before  they  could  persuade  their 
youngest  granddaughter,  who  was  to  have 
their  house  and  land  after  them,  to  marry  the 
man  they  had  chosen  for  her.  And  as  a  reward 
for  her  consent  they  wanted  now  to  give  her 
the  finest  wedding  in  their  power. 

Biorn  Hindriksson  was  so  old  that  he  re- 
membered Herr  Olavus,  the  first  Lovdala 
Pastor,  and  his  wife,  Fru  Katrina  Hesselgren, 
and  he  had  never  lost  the  respect  he  had  for 


IO2  Liliecrona's  Home 

them.  As  long  as  there  was  still  a  descendant 
of  Herr  Olavus  in  the  parish  she  must  come  to 
the  marriage-feast  if  it  were  not  to  be  shorn 
of  half  its  glory.  He  would  not  accept  the 
excuse  that  the  Pastor's  daughter  could  not 
leave  home  on  her  Grandmother's  account, 
and  asked  at  once  if  one  of  the  maids  could 
not  have  given  an  eye  to  Fru  Beata  for  that 
day  at  least.  Besides,  she  was  not  on  her  death- 
bed ! 

His  tone  of  voice  showed  plainly  enough  that 
he  was  really  sorry,  and  not  speaking  just  for 
form's  sake.  Glad  as  he  was  to  see  the  Pastor's 
new  wife,  it  could  nevertheless  not  be  denied 
that  she  did  not  belong  to  the  old  Parsonage 
family. 

The  Pastor's  wife  replied  that  she  had  been 
of  the  same  opinion  as  he,  and  said  so  too.  But 
there  it  was :  the  Pastor's  daughter  was  so  bound 
up  in  the  old  lady  that  it  was  a  sheer  impossi- 
bility to  get  her  away  if  her  Grandmother  was 
the  least  ailing. 

Now  the  Pastor's  wife  had  taken  off  her 
wraps  and  knew  in  her  own  mind  that  she  was 
a  fine-looking  woman  and  well  dressed  too,  so 
that  they  might  search  the  land  for  a  more 
dignified  Pastor's  wife.  And  yet  these  peasant- 
folk  seemed  to  have  no  eyes  for  her  at  all. 

Biorn  Hindriksson's  wife  wondered  why  Fru 
Beata  herself  had  not  made  her  granddaughter 
go.  She  must  have  known  that  not  a  wedding 
had  taken  place  in  their  time  where  one  of  the 
old  Pastor's  family  had  not  danced  with  the 
bride. 


The  Bride's  Dance  103 

The  Pastor's  wife  drew  herself  up  and 
answered  sharply  that  she  had  not  known  it 
was  a  matter  of  such  moment,  or  she  herself 
would  have  stayed  at  home  instead.  How- 
ever, she  would  drive  home,  now  at  once,  and 
then  Maia  Lisa  could  come. 

With  that  the  Pastor's  wife  won  the  day. 
The  peasant  hosts  were  terribly  vexed  that  they 
had  offended  her,  and  ended  by  begging  and 
praying  her  to  stay. 

But  it  was  the  same  question  and  answer 
over  and  over  again  when  she  went  upstairs 
to  the  large  room  where  she  had  to  go  round 
shaking  hands  with  all  the  guests,  who  stood 
leaning  against  the  walls,  waiting  for  the 
marriage  ceremony.  She  had  been  cold  all 
day,  but  she  was  soon  warm  enough  now. 
There  was  no  end  to  their  questions  about 
Maia  Lisa  until  she  took  her  place  on  the  sofa. 
The  two  most  important  peasants'  wives  sat 
on  either  side  of  her,  and  they  were  silent  as 
wax  figures.  They  knew,  indeed,  that  it  was  no 
fitting  time  to  chatter  when  they  were  sitting 
and  waiting  for  anything  so  solemn  as  the 
marriage  service  ! 

She  felt  that  her  cheeks  were  flaming  red 
How  they  had  all  attacked  her  !    They  had  not 
plagued  the  Pastor  with  their  questions.    Did 
they  think  that  he  no  longer  had  any  voice 
in  the  matter  ? 

Ulla  Moreus,  the  sexton's  wife,  appeared  in 
the  doorway  and  stepped  forward  to  shake 
hands  with  her.  Of  course  there  would  be  more 
questions  to  answer  now,  for  she  was  one. 


IO4  Liliecrona's  Home 

of  Maia  Lisa's  best  friends.  However,  she  did 
not  seem  to  be  thinking  of  Maia  Lisa.  She  and 
her  Mother-in-law  were  there  dressing  the  bride. 
They  had  finished  now,  but  they  wondered 

Indeed  it  would  be  such  a  help  to  them  if 
Fru  Raklitz  would  kindly  come  to  the  garret 
bedroom  and  see  if  the  bride's  dress  was  just 
right. 

The  Pastor's  wife  was  well  aware  that  no  one 
in  Varmland  knew  better  how  to  dress  a 
peasant  bride  than  Ulla  Moreus  and  her  Mother- 
in-law.  Still  it  was  polite  of  them  to  wish  to 
hear  her  opinion.  So  she  went  with  Ulla  to  the 
bedroom  where  the  bride  stood  ready,  waiting 
for  the  bridesmaids  to  come  and  fetch  her. 
They  were  thinking  of  nothing  here  but  flowers 
and  finery.  It  was  a  real  relief  to  answer  ques- 
tions as  to  whether  the  gold  chain  was  hanging 
as  it  should,  whether  they  ought  to  put  more 
bead  necklaces  on  the  bride,  or  whether  she 
really  admired  the  tall  crown  of  cardboard  that 
Ulla  Moreus  had  sat  up  all  night  to  decorate 
with  red  and  green  silk  and  gilt  paper.  They 
had  thought  until  the  very  last  moment  that 
the  old  crown  would  have  done  again,  but  late 
last  evening  Ulla  had  remembered  that  this  was 
the  grandest  wedding  to  be  held  this  winter,  and 
then  she  had  cut  a  new  foundation  and  decor- 
ated it. 

The  Pastor's  wife  praised  it  and  everything 
else  as  well.  But  old  Mother  Moreus  still 
looked  troubled,  and  in  a  little  while  she  con- 
fided to  the  Pastor's  wife  what  was  worrying 
her.  • 


The  Bride's  Dance  105 

It  was  very  nice  that  Sister1  Raklitz  was 
pleased  with  the  wedding-dress,  but  she  felt 
herself  that  everything  was  a  failure  if  they 
could  not  induce  the  bride  to  look  a  little 
happier.  There  was  not  much  pleasure  in  deck- 
ing up  anyone  who  looked  after  all  as  if  she  were 
going  to  the  gallows. 

The  bride  turned  sharply  away  from  them, 
muttering  a  few  scarcely  audible  words.  All 
the  fine  things  she  wore  were  nothing  to  her  if 
Mamsell  Maia  Lisa  was  not  coming  to  the 
wedding  !  Had  she  not  promised  thousands 
of  times  that  she  would  come  and  see  her  in 
her  wedding-dress  ? 

Then  Ulla  Moreus  put  in  her  word,  speaking 
in  the  bright,  pleasant  voice  of  one  who  likes 
to  take  a  matter  in  hand  and  settle  it  all  happily. 
No  doubt  Maia  Lisa  could  leave  her  Grand- 
mother for  a  little  while.  They  would  willingly 
send  for  her.  It  wasn't  after  all  a  long  drive. 

And  even  the  old  Mother-in-law  added  a 
persuasive  word  as  well :  Maia  Lisa  and  Britta 
were  schoolfellows,  and  had  been  good  friends 
ever  since. 

The  Pastor's  wife  answered  in  no  very  friendly 
tone.  "  No  doubt,  dear  Sister,  I  should  think 
there  isn't  a  single  peasant  girl  in  the  parish 
who  isn't  a  good  friend  of  Maia  Lisa."  She 
tossed  her  head,  and  left  the  room.  No  one 
ventured  to  say  anything  more  to  her.  Her  face 
was  flaming  again  by  now.  They  needn't 
think  she  did  not  see  that  they  had  only  coaxed 

1  An  ordinary  title  of  friendly  respect  amongst  Swedish 
peasants. 


106  Liliecrona's  Home 

her  up  into  the  garret  to  talk  about  Maia 
Lisa. 

The  ceremony  was  over,  and  everything  had 
gone  well.  The  bride  knew  that  the  guests  were 
all  sitting  now,  talking  in  whispers  of  how  she 
had  looked.  For  her  parents'  and  grand- 
parents' sake  she  could  have  wished  her  face 
had  not  been  quite  so  tear-stained.  If  only 
Mamsell  Maia  Lisa  had  come  she  would  have 
gone  through  it  all  with  a  bright  face.  The 
Pastor's  daughter  had  so  often  said  how  she 
would  like  to  see  her  as  a  bride  ;  perhaps  it  was 
only  to  encourage  her,  but  now  she  thought 
that  the  one  piece  of  brightness  that  she  had 
promised  herself  to-day  had  been  snatched 
from  her.  Whilst  the  service  was  going  on  she 
had  turned  her  head  several  times  and  glanced 
towards  the  door,  for,  in  spite  of  all,  she  had 
been  so  sure  Maia  Lisa  would  come  that  she 
could  not  help  looking  for  her.  How  could 
anyone  be  so  hard-hearted  and  refuse  her  on 
such  a  day,  the  only  thing  she  asked  !  Her 
eyes  filled  with  tears  at  the  very  thought. 

When  they  had  laid  the  great  table,  shaped 
like  a  horseshoe,  and  the  guests  sat  down  to 
eat,  they  began  to  be  very  merry  and  talkative 
all  round  her.  The  others  could  eat,  drink, 
and  joke,  but  she  felt  all  the  time  the  same  sense 
of  oppression.  She  could  not  even  think  of  food. 
She  sat  crumbling  a  slice  of  bread,  so  that  they 
might  think  she  was  eating  something.  "  If 
only  Mamsell  Maia  Lisa  had  come  to-day," 
she  thought,  "  it  would  have  been  a  different 
matter.  She  would  have  made  it  easy  for  me." 


The  Bride's  Dance  107 

She  looked  up  at  her  bridegroom  beside  her  with 
some  confusion,  wondering  if  he  had  heard 
anything,  for  it  struck  her  that  she  had  been 
thinking  aloud.  And  in  a  moment  she  really 
did  ;  she  noticed  she  was  sitting  there  murmur- 
ing :  "Oh  dear,  dear,  to  think  that  Mamsell 
Maia  Lisa  has  never  come  to  my  wedding  ! ': 

"  What  are  you  sitting  there,  saying  to  your- 
self ?  "  asked  the  bridegroom. 

She  answered  almost  against  her  will,  "  Oh 
dear,  dear,  to  think  that  Mamsell  Maia  Lisa  has 
never  come  to  my  wedding !  "  The  bride- 
groom remembered  very  well  how  he  had  had 
to  beg  and  pray  before  this  rich  peasant's 
daughter  had  consented  to  take  him.  Already 
people  began  to  whisper  that  she  had  been 
forced  to  it  by  her  grandparents,  and  if  his  bride 
was  going  to  sit  at  the  wedding-feast  with  such 
a  sad  face,  the  report  would  soon  spread  far 
and  wide.  He  began  to  reprove  her.  It  wasn't 
fitting  to  take  it  so  to  heart.  She  could  have 
the  Pastor's  daughter  another  day. 

The  bride  paid  no  heed  to  his  words.  She 
sat  crumbling  her  bread,  and  in  a  little  she 
sighed  again  :  "Oh  dear,  dear,  to  think  Mamsell 
Maia  Lisa  should  not  see  me  as  a  bride  !  " 

Once  more  her  husband  tried  to  reason  with 
her — "  How  foolish  to  make  a  fuss  about  such 
a  thing,"  he  said.  "  What  do  you  think  Mam- 
sell Maia  Lisa  troubles  about  you  ?  We  all 
know  how  much  interest  gentlefolk  take  in  us 
peasants  !  " 

But  then  the  bride  turned  round  sharply  : 
"  You  wouldn't  say  that  if  you  knew  what  you 


io8  Liliecrona's  Home 

were  talking  about.  You  wouldn't  be  sitting 
where  you  are  if  the  Pastor's  daughter  had  not 
spoken  well  of  you,  and  said  that  she  believed 
you  would  be  good  to  me." 

Now  it  was  the  bridegroom's  turn  to  be 
silent,  so  silent,  indeed,  that  when  the  guests 
sitting  opposite  wanted  to  speak  to  him,  they 
had  to  shout  before  he  answered. 

The  other  guests  could  not  fail  to  notice  it, 
and  they  too  grew  silent,  and  did  nothing  but 
look  anxiously  at  bride  and  bridegroom.  But 
just  when  all  were  feeling  most  embarrassed, 
the  young  peasant  turned  to  his  bride.  "  If  that 
is  all  you  are  troubled  about,"  he  said,  "  it  can 
soon  be  remedied.  I  think  I  am  man  enough 
to  manage  to  let  Mamsell  Maia  Lisa  see  you  as 
a  bride." 

She  looked  at  him  in  amazement  and  saw  he 
was  in  earnest. 

"  I  will  never  forget  that  you  cared  enough 
for  me  to  help  me  in  this,"  she  answered.  And 
as  she  spoke  her  face  brightened,  and  she 
seemed  a  different  creature. 


The  Pastor's  daughter  was  sitting  crying 
before  the  stove  in  the  kitchen  bedroom  at 
Lovdala.  The  tears  were  pouring  down  her 
cheeks.  She  simply  could  not  keep  them  back, 
although  she  tried  hard  to,  for  she  did  not  want 
the  servants  to  think  she  was  sitting  there 
crying  only  because  she  was  left  alone  at  home 
whilst  her  dear  father  and  stepmother  were 
away  enjoying  themselves. 


The  Bride's  Dance  109 

For  that  wasn't  why  she  was  sad ;  no,  in- 
deed; her  trouble  was  that  she  had  not  been 
able  to  keep  her  promise  to  Britta.  How  often 
they  two  had  spoken  of  this  great  wedding- 
day  !  It  had  never  been  possible  to  make  Britta 
quite  happy  about  her  bridegroom,  but  it  had 
always  cheered  her  up  when  the  Pastor's 
daughter  told  her  that  she  was  looking  forward 
to  seeing  her  in  her  wedding-dress.  How  could 
she  help  but  cry  ?  It  was  so  hard  to  have  had 
to  break  her  word  to  Britta. 

But  how  strange  it  was  !  She  fancied  she 
could  hear  sleighbells,  the  tramp  of  horses'  feet, 
and  unmistakable  sounds  of  a  violin.  The 
music  grew  plainer  and  plainer.  Surely  she 
heard  something,  but  where  in  the  world  could 
it  come  from  ?  She  got  up  and  went  to  the 
eastern  window  where  she  could  see  right  down 
the  avenue. 

When  she  had  lit  the  stove  an  hour  ago  it 
had  been  dark  night  outside,  but  now  the  wood 
had  burnt  out  it  was  dark  in  the  room.  And, 
meanwhile,  how  light  it  had  grown  outside  in 
the  clear,  bright  starlight.  The  snow  on  the 
ground  and  the  white  frost  on  the  trees  were 
doing  their  part  too,  so  that  when  she  reached 
the  window  it  seemed  as  though  she  were  look- 
ing into  a  brightly  lighted  room. 

She  saw  quite  plainly  a  bridal  procession 
coming  out  from  the  avenue,  and  on  between 
the  old  houses  behind  the  Parsonage.  In  the 
first  sleigh  sat  the  players  with  their  fiddles 
under  their  chins,  fiddling  away  as  fast  as  fingers 
could  go.  In  the  next  sat  the  bride  and  bride- 


no  Liliecrona's  Home 

groom,  and  the  bride  had  not  even  a  shawl 
over  her  head,  but,  instead,  her  crown  shining 
brightly  in  the  white  light  of  the  snow.  After 
them  came  sleigh  after  sleigh  filled  with  peasant 
guests.  She  recognised  Sexton  Moreus'  white 
horse,  the  churchwarden's  red  sleigh,  and 

But  as  she  looked  she  grew  so  dizzy  that  she 
had  to  sit  down  on  the  chair  by  the  window. 
She  could  not  make  out  what  it  was.  Why 
were  the  wedding-party  from  Lobyn  driving 
down  here  to  the  empty  Parsonage  ?  Perhaps 
she  only  saw  such  things  because  all  day  long 
her  thoughts  had  been  busy  with  nothing  but 
this  marriage  feast. 

She  heard  them  stop  before  the  steps,  heard 
the  door  open  and  people  crowding  into  the  hall. 
But  she  sat  on  just  as  before.  Not  that  she 
was  afraid,  but  alas  !  how  heart-breaking  it 
would  be  to  go  out  to  welcome  them  and  find 
no  one  there  after  all ! 

Now  they  were  in  the  drawing-room,  and  now 
they  opened  the  door  into  the  room  next  the 
kitchen.  The  players  came  first.  Then  Sexton 
Moreus  with  Ulla  on  his  arm.  Next  the  bride 
and  bridegroom  with  two  bridesmaids  each 
carrying  a  three-branched  candlestick,  and  after 
them  a  whole  host  of  young  folks,  men  and 
maids. 

When  they  had  all  come  in,  Jan  Oster  and 
his  friend  stopped  playing,  and  Sexton  Moreus 
stepped  up  to  the  Pastor's  daughter  and  made 
a  little  speech.  Nothing  would  satisfy  Britta  of 
Lobyn  but  that  the  Pastor's  daughter  should 
see  what  a  beautiful  bride  she  was,  and  so  she 


The  Bride's  Dance  1 1 1 

and  her  husband  had  meant  to  drive  over  alone, 
but  then  he  and  the  others  had  thought  that  it 
would  not  give  her  much  pleasure  to  see  the 
bride  unless  she  could  see  the  bridal  procession 
as  well,  and  so  they  had  all  come  or,  at  any 
rate,  as  many  as  were  not  too  sleepy  after  the 
wedding-dinner. 

The  Pastor's  daughter  was  always  badly 
dressed  since  she  had  had  a  stepmother.  But 
both  she  and  everyone  else  forgot  all  about  that 
in  the  joy  that  lit  up  her  face  at  their  coming. 

It  was  true  enough  what  report  said  of  these 
daughters  of  Lovdala  Parsonage  that  they  had 
some  magic  power  over  people.  No  one  could 
really  understand  how  she  managed  it,  but 
when  she  threw  her  arms  round  the  bride  and 
shook  hands  with  the  bridegroom  and  all  the 
others,  every  one  of  them  felt  that  the  real 
wedding  joy  had  been  wanting  until  that 
moment.  For  the  Pastor's  daughter  could 
throw  off  her  sadness,  and  be  so  gay  that  other 
people  too  thought,  "  There  is  nothing  so 
beautiful  as  life ;  it  is  untrue  to  say  life  is  sad 
and  troublous,  when  it  is  nothing  but  unmixed 

joy." 

The  Pastor's  daughter  only  had  to  look  at  the 
bride  and  praise  her  crown  to  open  their  eyes 
too.  They  had  not  noticed  before  how  pretty 
she  was  in  her  wedding-dress.  When  she  turned 
to  the  bridegroom  with  a  word  of  thanks  for 
his  coming  and  congratulated  him  on  his  wife, 
the  same  thing  happened  to  him.  He  realised 
that  he  had  not  only  married  into  the  largest 
peasant-holding  in  Lobyn,  but  that  he  had 


ii2  Liliecrona's  Home 

also  got  the  best  peasant  girl  for  his  bride.  No 
one  could  hear  what  she  said  to  Britta,  but 
Britta's  face  told  plainly  enough  that  it  was 
just  what  she  needed  to  make  her  happy  for  all 
the  rest  of  the  day. 

They  had  brought  refreshments  which  they 
spread  on  the  table,  for  they  wanted  her  to 
taste  the  wedding-feast.  And  it  was  evident 
how  delicious  she  thought  it  all  was,  but  she 
would  not  eat  anything  until  after  they  had 
gone  again.  She  knew,  of  course,  that  they 
could  not  stay  long,  the  only  marvel  was  that 
they  had  managed  to  get  away  at  all. 

Ulla  told  her  how  they  had  watched  their 
opportunity,  and  crept  away  immediately  after 
the  dinner.  The  old  people  had  been  sitting  a 
little  drowsy,  needing  their  after-dinner  nap, 
and  had  known  nothing  about  it  until  the 
young  folk  had  got  away.  But  they  must 
drive  back  as  soon  as  the  bride  had  danced  one 
turn  with  Mai  a  Lisa. 

They  went  out  into  the  drawing-room,  and 
took  their  places  round  the  wall  to  watch  the 
dance.  Fiddler  Jan  Oster  tuned  up  a  polka, 
and  off  went  the  bride  with  the  Pastor's  daugh- 
ter. But  in  the  very  first  round,  Maia  Lisa 
turned  pale  with  anxiety.  In  her  happiness  she 
had  quite  forgotten  about  the  dance-money. 
On  the  wedding-day  everyone,  old  and  young, 
alike,  had  to  dance  with  the  bride,  and  every- 
one who  danced  with  her  had  to  give  her  the 
dance-money.  But  she,  poor  girl  that  she  was, 
did  not  possess  a  single  farthing. 

The  bride  had  not  been  so  forgetful  of  her 


The  Bride's  Dance  113 

duty.  Away  on  a  table  in  the  corner  of  the 
drawing-room  she  had  put  a  bottle  of  scent 
and  a  bride's  box  of  pastry,  raisins  and  wedding 
comfits  to  offer  her  after  the  dance. 

The  Pastor's  daughter  felt  that  never  before 
had  fate  treated  her  so  badly.  It  would  never 
do  to  break  the  old  custom,  for  everyone  would 
think  that  would  bring  bad  luck. 

Britta  must  have  seen  her  anxiety,  for  in  the 
midst  of  the  dance  she  whispered  that  Mamsell 
Maia  Lisa  must  just  pretend  to  put  something 
in  her  hand.  Of  course  she  couldn't  have  any 
dance-money  ready  when  they  had  come  upon 
her  so  unexpectedly. 

The  Pastor's  daughter  owned  a  pair  of  gold 
ear-rings  and  a  gold  brooch  that  had  been  her 
Mother's  before  her.  She  would  have  liked  to 
give  Britta  one  or  other  of  them,  but  she  did 
not  know  if  she  dared.  What  would  happen  if 
her  stepmother  chanced  to  hear  of  it  ?  It  was 
not  unusual  to  dance  more  than  one  round  with 
the  bride,  but  the  Pastor's  daughter  danced  two 
or  three,  whilst  she  turned  over  in  her  mind  what 
she  could  do.  Not  that  that  quite  expresses  her 
feelings,  for  she  was  in  such  terror  that  her 
thoughts  flew  in  the  wildest  confusion. 

Whilst  she  was  dancing  as  slowly  as  she  could, 
she  thought  of  a  silver  spoon  that  had  been 
given  to  her  at  her  christening.  But  she  was 
by  no  means  certain  that  Raklitz  would  not  go 
to  the  bride's  home  the  next  day  and  ask  for 
it  again  if  she  gave  away  anything  so  valuable. 
*  The  only  thing  I  can  do  is  to  tell  Britta  she 
will  get  her  money  another  time,"  she  said  to 


H4  Liliecrona's  Home 

herself.  But  then  something  happened  that 
startled  her,  and  off  she  went  and  finished 
the  round  at  a  good  pace.  For  someone  had 
watched  her  and  slipped  a  coin  into  her  fingers 
as  she  was  dancing  past.  When  the  dance  came 
to  an  end  she  had  a  whole  bright  silver  thaler 
to  lay  in  Britta's  hand. 

The  bride  was  so  taken  aback  that  she  quite 
forgot  to  offer  the  wedding  comfits,  and  the 
Pastor's  daughter  had  to  ask  if  she  was  not  to 
get  any.  Whilst  she  helped  herself  to  scent,  she 
looked  round  to  find  out  who  it  was  that  had 
given  her  the  thaler.  She  knew  she  had  got  it 
just  as  she  passed  the  stove.  Then  it  must  have 
been  the  tall  dark  man  standing  between  the 
stove  and  the  cupboard  who  had  helped  her. 

She  bent  forward  and  took  some  pastry  from 
the  box,  and  as  she  did  so  she  whispered  to  the 
bride  that  she  thought  she  knew  everybody  in 
the  parish,  but  she  could  not  quite  recollect  the 
name  of  the  man  standing  by  the  cupboard. 

The  bride  answered  under  her  breath  that 
that  was  not  to  be  wondered  at,  for  that  was 
a  man  from  another  parish.  He  was  a  smith 
from  the  Henriksberg  ironworks  in  Vastmarken, 
and  he  had  just  come  that  day  to  buy  some 
hay  from  her  Grandfather.  She  didn't  really 
know  why  he  had  come  with  them,  for  he 
wasn't  one  of  the  wedding  guests.  He  hadn't 
even  got  on  his  best  clothes. 

And  sure  enough  the  stranger  was  dressed 
in  black  sheepskin  with  a  belt  round  his  waist. 
The  Pastor's  daughter  wondered  how  she  was 
to  thank  him,  but  she  had  no  chance  then,  for 


The  Bride's  Dance  115 

the  wedding-party  were  just  coming  up  to  say 
good-bye.  She  thanked  them  for  coming, 
helped  them  on  with  their  wraps,  and  waved 
her  hand  to  them  from  the  porch.  When  she 
came  back  to  the  drawing-room  she  was  a  little 
astonished  to  find  the  tall  stranger  still  standing 
in  the  middle  of  the  room. 

But  it  soon  occurred  to  her  why  he  had  stayed. 
Of  course  he  wanted  to  know  when  he  was  to  get 
back  the  thaler  that  he  had  lent.  Who  knows, 
perhaps  he  has  taken  it  from  the  money  his 
master  gave  him  to  pay  for  the  hay  ! 

It  seemed  as  though  he  would  like  to  deny 
having  lent  it,  and  when  she  persisted,  he  de- 
clared it  was  nothing  worth  speaking  about. 

But  she  could  not  consent  to  take  a  whole 
thaler  from  a  stranger.  She  told  him  she  would 
ask  her  Father  for  it  as  soon  as  he  came  home, 
and  send  it  over  the  next  morning,  so  that  he 
could  pay  for  the  hay. 

A  kindly  smile  crept  over  his  face  like  a 
gleam  of  sunshine.  She  must  do  as  she  liked  in 
the  matter,  but  he  had  plenty  of  money  to 
manage,  without  the  thaler. 

She  looked  at  him  with  a  little  wonder  in  her 
glance.  Indeed,  she  began  to  think  he  had  not 
stayed  for  the  sake  of  the  money.  But  why, 
then? 

He  stroked  a  long  lock  of  hair  back  from  his 
forehead,  and  looked  past  her  to  the  other  wall. 
"Oh,  I  don't  know/'  he  said;  "perhaps  there 
was  something  else  I  wanted  to  talk  about." 

The  Pastor's  daughter  with  a  little  feeling  of 
impatience  took  a  step  towards  the  door. 


1 1 6  Liliecrona's  Home 

The  man  looked  at  her  again  with  his  kindly 
smile.  "  I  cannot  understand  how  the  others 
had  the  heart  to  drive  away,"  he  said. 

The  Pastor's  daughter  flushed  and  went  on 
towards  the  door. 

"  They  ought  to  have  taken  you  with  them 
to  the  dance,  and  not  have  left  you  all  alone 
here." 

There  was  such  a  kindly  note  in  his  voice  that 
she  could  not  be  angry.  She  turned  towards 
him  and  laughed.  "  Oh,  it  won't  hurt  me  to  be 
left  alone,  for  I  am  happy  now.  And  you  must 
go  as  well.  Contented  as  I  am,  no  one  need  be 
uneasy  on  my  account." 


CHAPTER    VIII 

THE   FOX-PIT 

ENG-BENGT  was  standing  with  his  lantern 
in  his  hand  very  early  in  the  day  looking 
down  into  the  fox-pit.    Something  was  wrong 
with  it,  for  never  in  all  his  life  had  he  seen  a 
pit  look  like  that. 

Now,  if  there  was  one  thing  in  the  world 
that  Long-Bengt  knew  he  could  do  it  was  to 
lay  a  good  fox-trap.  And  the  evening  before 
he  had  seen  to  it  just  as  carefully  as  ever.  He 
had  covered  the  mouth  of  the  deep  pit  with 
little  birch  branches,  straw,  and  snow,  and 
given  it  such  a  deceptive  roof  that  not  even  the 
sharpest  old  vixen  could  tell  it  from  ordinary 
earth.  And  the  duck  that  had  to  sit  on  the 
top  of  the  tall  pole  in  the  middle  of  the  pit  to 
entice  the  fox  that  way  had  been  fastened  with 
a  strap  over  her  wings,  and  fixed  so  firmly  to 
the  post  that  he  knew  she  could  not  get  away. 
The  best  duck  in  the  poultry-yard  she  was,  and 
had  the  strongest  voice  too.  He  had  heard 
how  she  quacked  when  he  had  left  her  tied  fast 
to  the  pole  ;  her  shrill  piercing  cries  of  distress 
had  resounded  far  and  wide  through  the  silence 
of  the  winter's  night.  It  was  a  great  disgrace 
for  anyone  to  bait  a  fox-pit  and  tie  the  duck 

117 


1 1 8  Liliecrona's  Home 

so  insecurely  that  the  fox  could  run  off  with 
her,  and  one  that  Long-Bengt  had  never  yet 
incurred.  A  disgrace  too,  equally  great,  whether 
the  fox  got  her  off  to  the  forest  or  carried 
her  down  to  the  bottom  of  the  pit  as  he  fell. 

The  dairymaid  never  liked  giving  up  her 
ducks.  If  any  harm  should  come  to  one  of 
them,  he  knew  she  would  taunt  him  with  it 
every  evening  that  he  wanted  to  set  the  trap. 

Now,  however,  this  mishap  had  come  to 
pass.  When  he  shone  the  lantern  before  him 
he  saw  that  there  was  no  duck  on  the  post, 
nothing  but  the  ends  of  the  strap  hanging  there. 
He  was  so  annoyed  that  he  turned  to  go,  scarcely 
caring  to  see  if  the  fox  had  fallen  into  the  pit 
or  got  clear  away.  Still  it  was  just  possible 
that  he  might  be  a  prisoner.  He  tried  to  throw 
the  light  from  the  lantern  on  the  ground  at  his 
feet.  There  were  holes  in  several  places  of  the 
pit-roof.  If  only  he  could  understand  how  that 
fox  had  managed  to  drag  down  so  much  straw. 

But,  turn  the  lantern  as  he  might,  he  could 
not  possibly  see  down  to  the  floor  of  the  pit, 
so  he  began  to  look  for  footsteps  on  the  snow. 
If  there  had  been  two  foxes  he  could  better 
understand  why  the  roof  was  so  broken  up, 
and  then,  too,  it  would  not  be  quite  such  a 
disgrace  to  have  lost  the  duck. 

He  found  the  foot-marks  in  the  snow,  held 
the  lantern  close  to  them,  and  bent  lower  and 
lower.  At  last  he  got  down  on  his  knees,  took 
the  candle  out  of  the  lantern,  and  threw  its 
light  to  the  ground. 

When  he  got  up,  his  legs  trembled  so  beneath 


The  Fox-pit  119 

him  that  he  was  glad  nobody  was  there  to  see. 
He  could  scarcely  get  over  the  ground  fast 
enough  to  fetch  a  rope  from  the  stable.  When 
he  came  back  with  it,  he  made  the  lantern  fast 
to  one  end,  and  let  it  down  the  pit.  Now  he 
could  see  to  the  very  bottom,  and  in  a  moment 
a  broad  grin  passed  over  his  face.  His  eyes 
grew  smaller  and  smaller  and  brighter  and 
brighter,  and  his  white  teeth  glistened  in  the 
candle-light.  Yet  he  seemed  in  no  hurry,  but 
stood  leaning  over  the  pit  chuckling  to  himself. 

A  little  later  Long-Bengt  came  up  to  the  big 
house.  He  did  not  go  along  the  kitchen  path, 
but  tramped  heavily  up  to  the  front  door  and 
felt  for  the  locks  and  bolts  to  let  himself  in. 
It  was  barely  five  o'clock,  and  no  one  was  up  but 
the  old  housekeeper.  She  heard  the  fumbling 
at  the  door  and,  quite  startled  at  the  noise, 
came  to  open  it. 

"  But  why  in  the  world  are  you  here,  Long- 
Bengt  ?  Whatever  possesses  you  to  come  in 
the  front  way  ?  " 

Long-Bengt  brushed  her  aside  without  vouch- 
safing a  word  of  reply.  He  went  straight  to  the 
bedroom  where  the  Pastor  and  his  wife  lay 
in  their  first  sleep,  and  knocked  at  the  door. 

"  What  is  it  ?  What  has  happened  ?  " 
And  the  Pastor  sat  up  in  bed. 

"  It  is  Long-Bengt,  Pastor.  I  wanted  to  tell 
you  the  duck  disappeared  from  the  pit  last 
night." 

"  That's  a  bad  job,  of  course,  Bengt,  but  still 
you  needn't  come  in  the  middle  of  the  night 
and -" 


I2O  Liliecrona's  Home 

"  The  duck  and  the  fox  are  both  down  in  the 

pit.- 

'  You  are  a  duffer,  Bengt.  You  know  I  came 
home  late  from  the  wedding,  and  have  only 
just  this  minute  gone  to  sleep." 

But  after  a  respectful  pause  Long-Bengt 
went  on.  '  There  was  a  wolf  on  the  fox's 
track,  and  he's  fallen  into  the  pit  as  well." 

Quick  as  a  flash  came  the  Pastor's  answer  : 
"  Tell  them  in  the  kitchen  to  come  and  light 
up  here  so  that  I  can  get  up  !  " 

But  Long-Bengt  kept  his  ground  as  though 
he  were  deaf. 

"  And  there  was  another  wolf  following  the 
first,  and  he's  in  the  pit  as  well."  Not  a  word 
more,  but  straight  to  the  door  and  out. 

When  the  day  had  really  dawned  all  the 
Parsonage  people  had  gathered  round  the  fox- 
pit,  the  Pastor  and  his  wife,  the  Pastor's 
daughter,  the  housekeeper,  the  five  maids,  the 
old  crofter-woman  and  Little-Maid.  Besides 
these  there  were  Long-Bengt  and  his  Mother, 
Old  Bengta  and  his  wife,  Merry  Maia,  the  two 
Vetter-lads,  Player  Jons  and  Old  Backman, 
a  soldier  who  was  doing  a  little  work  on  the 
Lovdala  land.  They  were  all  silent,  and  all 
leant  forward  to  look  down  into  the  pit  for  a 
minute  or  two,  and  then  drew  back  again. 

Little-Maid  was  standing  a  little  apart,  for 
there  was  no  room  for  her  close  to  the  edge  of 
the  pit.  The  Pastor  caught  sight  of  her  and 
beckoned  to  her  to  come  and  look  as  well  as 
the  others. 

A  minute  before  she  would  have  liked  to 


The  Fox-pit  121 

push  forward,  but  now  she  could  not  take  a 
step.  A  shudder  went  through  her,  she  simply 
dared  not  look  at  the  wolves.  She  had  never 
seen  any  before,  although  she  had  often  heard 
them  bark  in  the  forest  round  Koltorp,  and  she 
knew  that  wolves  were  the  most  horrible 
things  in  creation,  worse  even  than  great 
serpents. 

The  Pastor  was  gayer  this  morning  than  she 
had  ever  seen  him  before.  He  took  a  good  grip 
of  her  sheep-skin  collar. 

"  Now  I  have  got  you  fast,  Nora  Stormwind, 
so  that  you  can't  fall.  You  must  look  down 
into  the  pit,  even  if  you  are  but  a  child,  so  that 
you  can  tell  the  young  folks  when  you  are  an 
old  woman  how,  in  one  night,  we  caught  two 
wolves  and  a  fox  in  the  Lovdala  pit ! " 

So  there  she  stood  at  the  edge  and  looked 
down  at  last.  The  pit  was  square  and  lined 
with  wood  like  the  well,  although,  of  course, 
much  bigger.  She  looked  about  for  great 
monsters  with  gaping  jaws  that  could  swallow 
a  little  girl  like  her  in  one  bite.  But  she  could 
not  catch  sight  of  them,  so  she  turned  round  and 
looked  at  the  Pastor. 

"  Look  into  the  corners  !  "  he  said.  Once 
again  she  bent  forward.  It  was  pretty  dark 
down  there,  but  now  she  began  to  make  out 
something.  There  were  four  animals  in  the 
pit,  one  in  each  corner.  All  four  were  per- 
fectly quiet,  only  their  eyes  shone  brightly 
when  they  looked  up  to  the  light  and  the  people 
peering  down  at  them. 

In  the  corner  exactly  opposite  her  lay  the 


122  Liliecrona's  Home 

fox,  a  little  tight  red  ball,  no  larger  than  a 
sofa  cushion.  In  the  next  lay  a  creature  like 
a  great  shaggy  dog ;  in  the  third  stood  the 
duck  on  both  legs,  straight  and  dignified. 
Whilst  in  the  fourth  there  was  another  of  the 
great  furry  dogs. 

There  was  something  strange  and  mysterious 
in  the  silence  down  in  the  pit.  Little-Maid 
was  as  silent  as  all  the  rest  when  she  stepped 
back  from  its  edge. 

When  they  had  all  looked  their  fill,  the  men 
went  away  in  a  group  to  talk  it  over.  They 
must  kill  the  wolves,  but  it  was  not  easy  to 
say  how  it  was  to  be  done.  It  would  have  been 
simple  enough  to  shoot  them,  but  if  once  blood 
was  shed  in  the  pit,  it  would  be  quite  spoilt ; 
not  another  creature  would  ever  be  caught  in 
it  again.  When  it  was  only  a  fox  in  question, 
a  man  used  to  jump  down,  give  him  a  knock 
on  the  head  to  make  him  unconscious,  tie  a 
loop  round  his  neck  and  haul  him  up.  There 
was  no  danger  in  jumping  down  to  a  fox,  but 
it  was  quite  another  matter  to  go  into  a  pit 
with  no  less  than  two  wolves. 

Long-Bengt  took  the  cudgel  he  generally 
used  to  knock  the  fox  senseless,  went  up  to 
the  pit,  looked  down,  shook  his  head,  and  went 
back  to  the  others.  One  of  the  Vetter-lads 
fetched  a  rope  and  made  a  noose  of  it.  He  stood 
on  the  edge  of  the  pit,  and  let  down  his  noose 
straight  in  front  of  one  wolf.  If  he  could  only 
get  the  noose  over  the  wolf's  head,  it  would  be 
easy  work  to  pull  him  up.  Down  went  the 
noose,  lower  and  lower,  right  on  the  creature's 


The  Fox-pit  123 

nose,  but  he  never  stirred.  Then  suddenly  he 
tossed  his  head  and  snapped.  Two  rows  of 
teeth  shone  white,  and  the  noose  lay  bitten 
off  on  the  floor  of  the  pit. 

Terror  filled  the  hearts  of  those  who  saw  it. 
It  was  no  joke  to  have  a  tussle  with  animals 
who  could  bite  off  a  rope  at  one  go.  "  There's 
no  help  for  it,  we  shall  have  to  shoot  them  in 
the  pit,"  said  the  Pastor.  "  Then,  of  course, 
we  shall  have  to  dig  a  new  pit  before  next 
winter." 

But  now  a  man  who  had  been  standing  a 
little  behind  the  others  stepped  up  to  the  pit- 
head. He  was  no  other  than  the  Henriksberg 
smith  who  had  come  up  to  Lobyn  the  evening 
before  to  buy  hay.  But  in  the  bride's  home  so 
many  guests  were  staying  the  night  that  they 
could  not  offer  him  a  bed,  and  Biorn  Hindriksson 
had  begged  the  Pastor  to  take  him  in.  Well, 
the  bedroom  under  the  Parsonage  roof  was 
always  ready  to  offer  to  strangers,  and  there 
he  had  passed  the  night.  But  in  the  morning 
everyone's  thoughts  had  been  so  taken  up 
with  the  wolves  that  they  had  quite  forgotten 
all  about  him. 

He  looked  down  into  the  pit,  then  took  up 
Long-Bengt's  cudgel  and  weighed  it  in  his  hand. 
But  they  all  thought  he  was  only  doing  it  for 
amusement.  He  was  very  tall  but  slight,  and 
did  not  look  so  very  strong.  His  hands  were 
slender,  too,  and  white,  not  in  the  least  like 
a  smith's  great  fists.  He  didn't  look  like  a  man 
who  had  had 'a  specially  happy  life.  His  eyes 
looked  as  though  all  the  sorrow  he  had  ever 


124  Liliecrona's  Home 

felt  had  taken  refuge  there  and  never  been 
washed  away  by  healing  tears,  and  when  he 
moved  he  seemed  borne  down  by  a  cruelly 
heavy  burden,  for  his  step  was  as  slow  and 
dragging  as  a  worn-out  wayfarer's. 

Now  he  stood  listening  to  the  other  men's 
suggestions  for  a  little  time,  but  when  he  saw 
how  helpless  they  were,  he  jumped,  quickly  for 
once,  on  to  the  edge  of  the  pit  and  down  right 
into  the  very  midst  of  the  wild  beasts. 

Before  anyone  realised  what  was  happening, 
swish  went  the  cudgel,  and  a  dull  thud  was 
heard.  That  was  one  of  the  wolves  who  had 
got  a  stunning  blow  on  his  head,  then  another 
and  another. 

The  second  wolf  had  got  up,  so  he  had  a  blow 
on  his  back  that  felled  him  to  the  ground,  and 
then  came  a  death-stroke  on  his  skull  as  well. 

"  Now  down  with  the  rope  !  "  cried  the 
stranger  to  the  others. 

Long-Bengt  threw  a  rope  with  a  noose  down 
to  him.  He  drew  it  over  the  first  wolf's  head, 
then  over  the  other's,  and  had  them  both 
drawn  up. 

The  fox  now  showed  signs  of  life.  He  was 
taking  great  leaps  up  the  pit  walls,  but  the 
stranger  took  no  notice  of  him.  "  Put  down 
the  ladder.  The  cattle-man  can  look  after  the 
other  two,"  he  said. 

As  he  came  up  both  men  and  women  were  so 
amazed  that  not  a  word  could  they  say.  When 
he  had  jumped  down,  the  women  had  been  so 
terrified  that  they  stood  there  trembling,  and 
the  men  were  a  little  ashamed  that  they  had 


The  Fox- pit  125 

dared  not  to  do  it  themselves.  But  the  Pastor's 
daughter  came  with  shining  eyes  to  meet  him. 

"  Now,  indeed,  I  have  seen  a  true  man," 
she  said.  "  I  have  longed  for  this  all  my  life." 

He  looked  at  her  with  his  sorrowful  eyes. 
"  Everything  in  the  world,"  they  seemed  to 
say,  "  is  poor  and  worthless,  and  I  myself  am 
worse  than  all  else."  But  at  the  same  time 
the  kindly  smile  lit  up  his  face.  "  I  thought 
it  was  a  pity,"  he  said,  "  to  shoot  down  into 
the  pit  and  spoil  it." 


CHAPTER   IX 

THE   SILVER  THALER 

IT  might  be  thought  that  that  was  nothing 
to  worry  over.  But  in  truth  the  Pastor's 
daughter  had  gone  about  for  a  couple  of  weeks 
feeling  quite  desperate  because  she  did  not 
know  where  to  get  a  silver  thaler.  If  only  she 
had  asked  her  father  for  it  the  morning  after 
the  wedding  as  she  had  intended  !  But  she 
had  had  a  good  scolding  from  her  stepmother 
for  what  she  had  said  to  the  smith  when  he 
came  out  of  the  fox-pit — and  not  only  for  what 
she  had  said,  but  for  rushing  forward  as  she 
had  done.  It  had  looked  just  as  if  she  wanted 
to  throw  herself  on  his  neck.  How  much 
longer  would  it  be  before  she  learnt  to  behave 
like  a  reasonable  being  and  not  like  a  twelve- 
year-old  child  ? 

After  that,  how  could  she  ask  for  money  ? 
It  had  been  impossible  to  get  her  father  by 
himself,  and  to  mention  it  before  her  step- 
mother was  only  to  ask  for  more  reproof  and 
displeasure.  Yet  it  was  very  tiresome  that 
she  had  put  it  off,  for  next  day  she  could  not 
think  of  venturing  to  do  it.  For  then  it  came 
to  dear  Mother's  ears  that  bride,  bridegroom, 
and  all  the  wedding  procession  from  Lobyn 

126 


The  Silver  Thaler  127 

had  been  at  the  Parsonage.  That  wounded 
her  deeply,  and  how  much  deeper  would  the 
sore  have  been  if  she  had  got  to  know  that  Maia 
Lisa  had  been  audacious  enough  to  give  away 
a  whole  silver  thaler !  But  the  longer  the 
Pastor's  daughter  put  off  mentioning  the  loan, 
the  harder  it  grew  to  confess  such  a  serious  debt 
to  her  father  and  stepmother.  And  at  last  she 
had  to  own  to  herself  that  she  would  certainly 
never  have  the  courage  to  ask  them  for  money. 
It  could  not  be  helped,  she  must  try  to  get  it 
some  other  way. 

She  thought  of  it  by  day  as  she  sat  sewing 
the  long  seams  of  the  linen  sheets  and  thought 
of  it  by  night  in  her  bed.  Of  course,  she  must 
pay  the  smith.  She  could  never  endure  the 
shame  if  she  did  not  repay  the  loan  of  one  who 
had  so  kindly  come  to  her  help.  If  only  she 
could  have  seen  Anna  Brogren  !  But  it  was 
quite  out  of  the  question.  Dear  Mother  would 
never  let  her  go  to  see  anyone  who  loved  her. 

But  to  whom  else  could  she  turn  ?  Grand- 
mother was  as  poor  as  she  herself  and  had 
nothing  but  what  dear  Father  gave  her.  And 
Ulla  Moreus  had  probably  never  handled  a 
silver  thaler  in  all  his  days. 

She  was  indeed  terribly  worried.  It  would 
not  do  to  go  to  any  chance  person  and  say  she 
dared  not  ask  dear  Father  and  Mother  for  a 
silver  thaler. 

When  she  was  almost  at  her  wit's  end  she 
happened  to  remember  that  she  had  an  aunt 
who  might  perhaps  come  to  her  help.  But  alas . 
She  could  scarcely  help  laughing  when  she 


128  Liliecrona's  Home 

thought  of  how  her  aunt  would  look  when  she 
came  asking  for  money.  She  would  be  astounded 
no  doubt,  for  her  niece  was  the  greatest  stranger 
possible  to  her.  There  was  a  great  impassable 
gulf  fixed  between  her  and  Maia  Lisa. 

Not  that  there  was  any  enmity  between 
them,  but  her  aunt  had  in  her  young  days  gone 
and  married  a  rich  peasant's  son  who  had  been 
bold  enough  to  woo  her.  It  had  by  no  means 
been  a  love  match  as  far  as  Maia  Lisa  could 
hear.  He  had  had  a  good  opinion  of  himself, 
and  thought  it  was  a  fine  thing  to  get  a  Pastor's 
daughter  for  his  wife,  whilst  she  had  said  quite 
plainly  that  she  would  rather  be  mistress  of  a 
well-to-do  peasant  household  than  go  home 
and  wait  for  some  poor  assistant  parson. 

Ever  since  her  aunt  had  gone  to  her  peasant 
home  she  had,  of  her  own  accord,  kept  away 
from  all  her  family.  She  wanted  to  forget  her 
former  life  altogether,  and  she  was  particularly 
pleased  when  no  one  from  Lovdala  came  near 
her. 

She  lived  not  far  away,  in  the  parish  of  Bro, 
but  she  never  came  to  the  Parsonage.  Instead, 
Father  or  Grandmother  or  Maia  Lisa  used  to 
drive  once  a  year  over  to  Svanskog  and  call  on 
her.  To  be  sure  Maia  Lisa  had  to  own  that  she 
had  never  much  enjoyed  these  visits  to  the 
peasant-house.  What  annoyed  her  was  not 
that  her  aunt  had  in  the  course  of  years  grown 
like  any  other  peasant  woman,  but  that  she 
always  acted  so  strangely  when  anyone  came 
to  see  her  from  Lovdala.  She  never  came  out 
to  the  front  steps  to  bid  them  welcome,  and 


The  Silver  Thaler  129 

when  they  came  into  the  sitting-room  she  always 
made  a  point  of  saying  that  they  really  should 
not  trouble  to  come  and  call  at  a  peasant's 
house.  Then  she  would  at  once  begin  to  reckon 
up  how  long  it  was  since  they  had  last  been 
there,  and  that  in  no  spirit  of  friendliness,  but 
rather  in  such  a  way  that  her  visitors  felt  quite 
miserable,  and  wondered  if  they  had  done 
right  in  coming,  or  if  it  would  have  been  better 
to  stay  at  home. 

How  tiresome  it  was  !  One  morning  when 
Maia  Lisa  was  sitting  at  breakfast  with  her 
Father  and  Mother  she  ventured  to  mention 
her  aunt  in  Svanskog,  and  to  say  they  must  not 
forget  her.  The  words  had  scarcely  passed  her 
lips  than  she  regretted  them.  For  what  good 
was  it  for  her  to  go  to  Svanskog  ?  It  would 
be  quite  useless,  for  her  aunt  was  no  fonder  of 
her  than  her  stepmother  herself.  Far  from  it ; 
so  that  if  Maia  Lisa  did  drive  over,  she  was  by 
no  means  sure  that  she  would  dare  to  ask  for 
help. 

Father  looked  up  at  once  from  his  porridge- 
plate.  He  had  always  been  sorry  for  the 
Pastor's  daughter  who  had  married  a  peasant, 
and  he  was  very  anxious  she  should  know 
that  she  was  not  forgotten  in  her  old  home. 
So  now  he  began  to  wonder  when  they  had  last 
been  to  see  her,  perhaps  so  long  ago  that  they 
ought  to  go  and  call  again. 

His  wife  said  not  a  word,  as  she  had  nothing 
to  do  with  peasant  relatives,  so  Maia  Lisa  had 
to  answer  that  no  one  had  been  to  Svanskog 
since  last  Christmas.  She  was  bold  enough  to 


130  Liliecrona's  Home 

add  that  no  doubt  it  would  please  her  aunt 
most  if  her  Father  would  drive  over  and  take 
dear  Mother  to  call. 

But  Maia  Lisa  soon  saw  that  she  was  not 
going  to  get  out  of  the  matter  so  easily.  Her 
Father  leant  back  in  his  chair  looking  any- 
thing but  pleased ;  no  doubt  he  thought  that 
there  ought  to  be  some  limit  even  to  family 
affection.  At  last  he  explained  that  Aunt 
Margreta  had  seen  so  much  of  him  that  there 
was  no  need  for  him  to  drive  over  to  Svanskog. 
But  Mother  and  Maia  Lisa  had  better  go  that 
very  day ;  in  fact,  it  would  fit  in  excellently, 
for  neither  Long-Bengt  nor  Blackie  had  any- 
thing else  to  do.  And  so  it  was  settled  before 
breakfast  was  finished. 

Dear,  dear,  thought  Maia  Lisa,  how  she 
wished  she  had  bitten  off  her  tongue.  Why 
need  she  begin  talking  about  Svanskog  ?  Just 
think  of  having  to  sit  and  drive  twelve  miles 
in  the  same  sleigh  with  her  stepmother  ! 

But  after  breakfast,  the  Pastor's  wife  fol- 
lowed her  husband  into  his  room,  and  when  she 
came  out  everything  had  been  altered  again. 
She  said  now  that  it  was  quite  unnecessary  for 
anyone  except  Maia  Lisa  to  go  to  Svanskog. 
It  was  plain  enough  she  didn't  want  to  go,  but 
it  was  good  for  young  people  to  do  what  they 
did  not  like.  And  she  could  walk,  not  drive ; 
for  her  stepmother  wanted  Long-Bengt  to-day 
to  help  her  with  the  tallow-boiling.  But  the 
next  day  he  could  come  and  fetch  her. 

The  Pastor's  daughter  did  not  dare  to  betray 
by  look  or  word  whether  she  was  pleased  or 


The  Silver  Thaler  131 

sorry.  But  to  herself  she  thought  that,  since 
she  must  go  to  Svanskog,  she  would  rather 
walk  by  herself  than  drive  in  her  stepmother's 
company. 

As  she  was  to  be  away  so  long,  however,  she 
begged  that  Little-Maid  might  look  after  Grand- 
mother now  and  again  and  see  if  she  wanted 
anything. 

But  dear  Mother  would  most  certainly  never 
grant  any  request  of  hers,  so  she  at  once  said 
that  Little-Maid  was  to  go  with  her  to  Svanskog. 
Did  Maia  Lisa  think  that  her  stepmother  had 
so  little  sense  of  what  was  fitting  as  to  let  her 
walk  all  that  way  by  herself  ?  And  she  needn't 
trouble  about  Grandmother,  there  were  plenty 
of  women  about  Lovdala  to  see  to  her. 

As  usual,  the  Pastor's  wife  had  her  own  way, 
and  in  less  than  an  hour  the  Pastor's  daughter 
and  Little-Maid  had  both  started.  They  walked 
quietly  and  steadily  down  the  avenue  and  on 
the  road  as  long  as  they  were  in  sight  from  the 
Parsonage  windows,  but  soon  they  came  to 
the  outskirts  of  the  great  forest  where  no 
one  at  home  could  catch  a  glimpse  of  them. 
And  although  the  Pastor's  daughter  certainly 
thought  the  long  tramp  to  Svanskog  useless 
and  wearisome,  yet  it  happened  to  be  the 
most  glorious  winter  weather,  and  straight 
down  in  front  of  them  stretched  the  long  slope 
of  a  steep  hill,  and  she  was  free  and  independent 
as  she  had  not  been  for  many  a  month,  and  felt 
like  a  bird  set  loose  from  a  tiny  cage.  So 
seventeen  years  stretched  out  a  hand  to  thirteen, 
and  on  they  rushed  at  full  speed  till  they  landed 


132  Liliecrona's  Home 

in  the  great  snowdrift  at  the  foot  of  the  slope 
and  lay  there  helpless  with  laughter. 

When  they  reached  Svanskog  it  was  only  one 
o'clock.  They  had  had  the  good  luck  to  get  a 
lift  for  half  their  journey.  All  the  way  from 
Broby  they  had  driven  with  a  man  from 
Svanskog,  who  had  taken  a  gentleman  so  far 
and  brought  them  back  in  his  empty  sleigh. 

There  was  an  inn  in  Svanskog,  although  not 
nearly  so  big  as  the  one  in  Broby,  where  a  fair 
number  of  people  were  always  going  and  coming. 
Here  in  Svanskog,  in  the  far  north  of  the 
parish,  there  came  at  the  very  most  only  one 
traveller  in  a  day,  and  sometimes  indeed  a 
whole  week  would  pass  without  anyone  asking 
for  a  sleigh.  It  was  all  just  as  usual  here. 
Neither  her  aunt  nor  any  of  her  maids  came  to 
help  the  Pastor's  daughter  and  Little-Maid 
out  of  the  sleigh. 

Dear,  dear,  how  cramped  her  heart  felt, 
just  as  if  her  chest  had  been  tightened  up  until 
there  was  no  room  for  it  to  beat  in  !  On  her 
way  she  had  been  more  hopeful,  but  as  she  got 
out  of  the  sleigh  she  felt  sure  her  aunt  would 
never  help  her. 

Svanskog  was  a  great  building,  with  the  en- 
trance in  the  middle  of  the  longest  side,  and 
not  poked  away  in  one  corner  as  was  usually 
the  case  in  peasant  houses.  Outside  the  front 
door  there  was  a  porch  not  quite  so  large  as 
the  porch  at  Lovdala,  but  with  the  same  kind 
of  roof  and  pillar  supports. 

That  was  really  rather  strange  !  Often  as 
the  Pastor's  daughter  had  been  here  she  had 


The  Silver  Thaler  133 

never  noticed  the  porch  before.  She  had  to 
stand  still  for  a  little  and  look  at  it  and  every- 
thing else.  The  dwelling-house  was  old,  but 
it  had  been  repaired  and  altered  since  her 
aunt  came,  and  no  doubt  she  must  have  taken 
her  childhood's  home  as  a  model.  The  windows 
had  the  same  number  of  panes  here  as  there, 
and  the  round  garret  skylights  might  have  been 
moved  from  one  house  to  the  other  without 
anyone  noticing  the  difference. 

In  a  second  her  heart  found  a  little  more  room 
to  work  in.  Perhaps  it  had,  after  all,  not  been 
such  a  terrible  blunder  to  come  here.  Perhaps 
the  former  Pastor's  daughter  had  not  disap- 
peared so  completely  as  she  wanted  to  make 
herself  and  everyone  else  believe. 

The  hall  was  smaller  than  in  Lovdala.  But 
there  were  the  same  rounded  cupboards  in  the 
corners,  and  the  walls,  too,  were  painted  grey 
with  an  ornamental  pattern  of  black  and  white 
dots.  The  staircase  wall  had  the  same  rough 
wooden  beams  as  at  home,  and  the  narrow 
garret  steps  were  just  as  steep  and  dangerous. 
No  doubt  it  was  just  as  easy  here  as  in  Lovdala 
to  slide  down  the  handrail  from  top  to  bottom 
without  once  touching  the  ground. 

Exactly  opposite  the  entrance  there  was  a 
door  leading  into  a  large  room  kept  sacred  to 
visitors.  None  of  the  household  were  ever  to  be 
found  there,  but  the  Pastor's  daughter  turned 
the  key  and  peeped  in.  She  saw  exactly  what 
she  expected  :  the  very  same  chairs  of  yellow 
birch  wood  and  the  table  with  flaps  as  in  the 
Lovdala  drawing-room ;  there  was  even  the 


134  Liliecrona's  Home 

great  arum  lily  by  the  one  window.  Yet  one 
thing  was  a  little  different,  for  although  the 
carpet  stripes  were  blue  as  at  home  they  were  not 
of  the  same  pattern.  But  it  struck  Maia  Lisa 
that  this  was  not  her  aunt's  fault.  She  had 
copied  in  her  weaving  the  old  carpet  patterns 
of  her  childhood.  It  was  the  Lovdala  house- 
hold who  had  altered  the  stripes. 

The  Pastor's  daughter  closed  the  door  and 
stood  silently  in  the  hall.  Tears  had  filled  her 
eyes,  but  she  did  not  think  her  aunt  would  care 
for  such  a  sign  of  affection,  so  she  would  go 
in  looking  calm  and  cheerful. 

It  was  Maia  Lisa's  usual  luck  again  !  When 
she  opened  the  door  to  the  great  living-room 
she  saw  her  aunt  was  busy  washing.  A  great 
boiler  was  hanging  over  the  fire,  and  a  washing- 
tub  full  of  clothes  stood  in  the  middle  of  the 
floor  with  a  little  stream  of  soap-suds  trickling 
out  of  it.  Of  course,  her  aunt  would  be  more 
vexed  than  ever  at  her  visit.  There  was  a  good 
deal  of  water  spilt  about  the  room,  and  a  long 
bench  stood  covered  with  the  coarse  newly 
washed  clothes.  Maia  Lisa  could  quite  under- 
stand that  no  one  would  care  about  receiving 
guests  in  such  a  disorderly  place. 

There  was  nothing  to  remind  her  of  Lovdala 
in  this  quite  ordinary  peasant  room.  Maia 
Lisa  had  always  thought  of  it  as  a  great  digni- 
fied place,  with  the  high  cupboards  right  up 
to  the  ceiling,  the  enormous  four-poster  bed, 
and  the  long  benches  fastened  against  the  walls. 
But  the  wet  clothes  had  taken  away  every  bit 
of  comfort  and  dignity  now. 


The  Silver  Thaler  135 

Her  aunt  was  standing  at  a  washing-tub 
with  her  back  to  the  door,  rubbing  and  scrubbing 
with  all  her  might.  Maia  Lisa  had  often  heard 
that  her  mother  and  all  her  sisters  had  been  tall 
and  slight  like  herself,  but  her  aunt  was  a  great 
strong  woman,  by  no  means  slim.  She  had 
on  her  black  homespun  skirt  with  a  red  corslet 
and  white  top.  Whilst  she  was  working,  she 
had  thrown  off  the  short  white  sheepskin  that 
completed  her  costume. 

She  did  not  turn  towards  the  door  when  they 
opened  it,  nor  speak  one  word.  Maia  Lisa 
wished  herself  many  miles  away,  and  no  mis- 
take. But  there  was  no  help  for  it ;  she  had  to 
go  up  to  her  and  offer  to  shake  hands.  Her 
aunt  had  both  hands  in  the  water.  She  drew 
one  out,  and,  without  troubling  to  dry  it,  put  it 
into  her  niece's  outstretched  ringers. 

"  Oh,  so  it's  you  that  have  come  at  last," 
she  said.  "  I  suppose  the  Pastor's  new  wife  is 
too  grand  to  call  on  us  peasant  folk/' 

She  said  really  nothing  worse  than  that,  and 
did  not  speak  more  unkindly  than  usual,  but 
Maia  Lisa  could  not  have  been  so  long-suffering 
as  she  generally  was,  for  she  burst  into  tears. 
Maybe  she  took  it  so  to  heart  because  she  had 
come  a-begging,  and  felt  now  that  she  would 
never  dare  to  utter  her  request. 

It  only  needed  this  flow  of  tears  to  make  her 
utterly  miserable.  Oh  dear,  dear,  how  could 
she  let  herself  go  like  that  before  this  aunt  who 
had  never  cared  for  her  !  And  it  was  not  like 
one  or  two  tears,  that  were  easily  wiped  away. 
But  down  they  came,  pouring  over  her  cheeks, 


136  Liliecrona's  Home 

whilst  there  was  such  a  lump  in  her  throat  that 
she  could  not  utter  a  word. 

How  bitterly  ashamed  she  was  of  herself. 
She  cried  because  she  was  crying,  and  when 
one  gets  to  that  pass  there  is  no  end  indeed  to 
the  tears.  She  would  have  liked  to  rush  away, 
and  go  home  again  that  very  moment.  She 
did  get  as  far  as  the  door,  but  when  she  got 
there  she  felt  so  weak  that  her  knees  gave  way 
under  her,  and  she  sank  down  on  to  a  short  little 
bench  standing  by. 

She  pictured  to  herself  all  the  time  what  her 
aunt  must  think  of  her  coming  in  crying  and 
disturbing  her  in  the  middle  of  her  washing. 
Not  that  she  seemed  particularly  uneasy.  She 
left  off  rubbing  the  clothes,  but  took  time  to 
empty  a  bucket  of  hot  water  into  the  wash-tub 
and  put  a  couple  of  logs  on  the  fire  before  she 
came  to  her. 

"  You  needn't  take  it  so  much  to  heart,"  she 
said  ;  "  maybe  my  bark  is  worse  than  my  bite." 

But  if  she  thought  that  would  dry  her  niece's 
tears,  she  was  much  mistaken.  They  came 
from  such  a  deep  and  overflowing  source  of 
sorrow  that  once  they  began  to  flow  they  must 
go  on  for  hours. 

The  Pastor's  daughter  could  not  answer  a 
word,  although  she  knew  very  well  that  her 
aunt  would  lose  patience  and  need  to  go  and 
look  after  her  washing.  But  Fru  Margreta  did 
not  seem  at  a  loss,  but  turned  to  Little-Maid, 
who  had  stood  all  the  time  beside  Mamsell 
Maia  Lisa  and  was  now  timidly  stroking  her 
one  hand. 


The  Silver  Thaler  137 

"  Perhaps  you  can  tell  me  what  she  is  crying 
for  ?  She  surely  is  not  upset  because  I  had  no 
time  to  shake  hands  properly  ?  ' 

Her  voice  sounded  as  though  she  wanted  to 
laugh  at  the  whole  matter,  and  Little-Maid 
must  have  noticed  it,  for  in  a  moment  she  was 
furious. 

"  No  wonder  she  cries  when  you  treat  her 
like  that.  Here  she  comes  to  get  help  from  her 
mother's  very  own  sister,  and  you  have  never 
a  kind  word  to  say  to  her/' 

The  Pastor's  daughter  put  her  hand  hastily 
over  Little-Maid's  mouth,  but  it  was  of  no  use, 
for  Little-Maid  could  not  endure  seeing  Mamsell 
Maia  Lisa  cry  without  turning  into  a  very 
determined  little  stormwind  indeed. 

Fra  Margreta  was  not  apparently  vexed  with 
Little-Maid,  but  her  answer  came  in  fretful 
tones  as  she  said  slowly  in  a  much  broader 
dialect  than  before  :  Whatever  could  she  do 
for  Maia  Lisa,  who  lived  in  such  luxury  at 
Lovdala  that  she  could  certainly  need  no  help 
from  a  poor  peasant  woman  ? 

Nothing  she  could  say  would  have  been  more 
likely  to  set  off  Little-Maid.  "  No  doubt  you 
are  cut  out  of  the  same  piece  as  her  stepmother," 
she  said.  "  If  you  hadn't  been  I  would  have 

told  you  that  she  came  here  to  ask  you  for 
a " 

But  now  the  Pastor's  daughter  seized  her 
arm  so  sharply  that  she  stopped.  But  Fru 
Margreta  went  on  as  though  nothing  had  been 
said. 

"  Can  it  be  so  hard  for  Maia  Lisa  to  have  got 


138  Liliecrona's  Home 

a  stepmother  ?  The  saying  goes  that  whoever 
gets  a  stepmother,  gets  a  stepfather  too,  but  it 
can't  have  been  so  with  her.  Is  it  possible  that 
there  is  anything  she  wants  to  have  and  can't 
get  ?  " 

The  Pastor's  daughter  was  making  all  possible 
signs  to  Little-Maid,  but  what  use  were  they 
when  her  aunt  sat  there  egging  her  on  like  that  ? 
'  You  can  see  for  yourself  how  things  are 
with  her,"  said  Little-Maid,  "  if  you  have  any 
eyes  to  see  with.  Her  clothes  are  not  much 
better  than  mine,  and  she  is  nothing  but  skin 
and  bone.  People  say  blood  is  thicker  than 
water,  but  yours  isn't,  I  know.  Not  a  scrap 
would  you  care  if  her  stepmother  plagued  her 
to  death." 

What  a  misery  this  all  was  for  Mamsell  Maia 
Lisa ;  it  was  bad  enough  not  to  be  able  to 
conquer  her  tears,  but  ten  times  worse  to  hear 
her  aunt  entice  Little-Maid  to  talk  of  all  kinds 
of  things.  Who  knew  how  her  aunt  would  take 
it  all  ?  Maybe  she  really  disliked  her  sister's 
daughter,  and  would  be  glad  at  what  she  heard. 

She  could  bear  it  no  longer.  She  got  up  and 
stumbled  towards  the  door.  But  there  was 
something  wrong  with  the  latch  when  she  tried 
to  lift  it.  She  could  not  get  it  up  at  once,  and 
as  she  pushed  and  pulled  her  strength  gave 
way,  her  head  swam,  and  she  fell  to  the  ground. 

When  she  came  to  herself  again  she  was  lying 
in  a  bed  in  the  room  with  the  blue-striped 
pieces  of  carpet,  lying  too  on  such  soft  pillows 
and  fine  linen  sheets  as  scarcely  had  their 
equal  in  Lovdala.  By  the  bedside  stood  a  table 


The  Silver  Thaler  139 

with  a  tray,  and  on  the  tray  a  dish  covered  with 
a  white  cloth. 

She  did  feel  a  little  hungry,  so  she  hastened 
to  take  the  cloth  from  the  dish.  But  there  was 
nothing  to  eat  under  it,  only  a  great,  beautiful, 
shining  silver  thaler. 

At  first  she  did  not  know  what  it  all  meant, 
but  then  she  understood  well  enough.  Her 
aunt  had  wormed  the  truth  out  of  Little-Maid. 
She  felt  so  happy  and  so  grateful  that  she  began 
to  cry  again,  and  after  a  few  tears  she  fell 
asleep. 

She  slept  straight  on  till  the  great  clock  in  the 
living-room  struck  three.  When  she  looked 
round,  the  silver  thaler  was  gone,  and  in  its 
place  all  kinds  of  good  food  by  the  bed.  At 
first  she  felt  frightened  at  the  loss  of  the  thaler, 
but  then  she  consoled  herself  with  the  thought 
that  she  was  in  good  hands  now.  When  she 
had  eaten  the  food,  she  was  so  overcome  with 
gratitude  for  all  the  kindness  shown  her  that 
once  again  her  eyes  filled  with  tears,  and  once 
more  she  cried  herself  to  sleep. 

When  next  she  woke  it  was  dark  night.  A 
fire  was  burning  in  the  stove,  and  her  aunt  was 
sitting  by  the  bed  watching  her. 

The  first  thing  she  said  was  that  Maia  Lisa 
must  excuse  her  having  taken  the  liberty  to 
send  the  silver  thaler  to  the  young  man  who 
had  lent  it.  A  post  sleigh  had  gone  over  to 
Henriksberg  that  afternoon,  and  the  driver 
had  been  told  to  find  out  which  of  the  smiths 
had  been  at  Christmas  to  buy  hay  in  Lobyn. 
He  was  to  give  him  the  thaler  with  many 


140  Liliecrona's  Home 

thanks  from  the  Pastor's  daughter.  She 
thought  that  that  was  the  best  plan,  for  it 
was  not  so  easy  for  Mala  Lisa  to  send  a  mes- 
senger all  the  way  from  Svartsjo  right  up  to 
Henriksberg. 

Once  more  the  Pastor's  daughter  was  so 
overcome  with  gratitude  that  she  could  scarcely 
speak.  Her  aunt,  however,  would  not  let  the 
tears  come  again,  but  began  to  ask  instead  all 
kinds  of  questions  about  Lovdala.  She  did  not 
speak  about  her  stepmother  or  anything  worry- 
ing, but  only  about  things  she  could  not  mind. 
How  was  her  grandmother  ?  Did  she  keep  her 
room  in  the  brewhouse  still  as  nicely  as  she  used 
to  ?  And  how  about  Old  Bengta  and  the 
men's  room  ?  Was  it  as  dirty  as  ever  ?  And 
were  there  still  owls  in  the  garret  ?  and  did  the 
thrush  still  perch  on  the  top  of  the  pine  by  the 
Resting-Stone  and  sing  away  on  spring  even- 
ings ?  And  were  the  lilies  of  the  valley  still 
growing  in  the  birch-wood  behind  the  orchard  ? 
Was  the  old  barn  still  standing  ?  and  was  the 
new  parsonage-house  that  Maia  Lisa's  father 
had  put  up  exactly  like  the  old  one  ?  And 
were  the  sheep  still  kept  in  the  dark  old  sheep- 
house  ? 

The  Pastor's  daughter  lay  there  listening  in 
utter  astonishment.  There  was  nothing  that  her 
aunt  forgot  to  ask  about.  As  last  she  spoke  a 
little  about  herself.  "  I  must  tell  you  that  when 
I  was  first  married  I  went  home  to  Lovdala  as 
often  as  ever  I  could.  I  saw  that  the  Svanskog 
people  did  not  like  it,  but  still  I  went  to  ease 
my  heart,  for  to  begin  with,  I  did  not  settle 


The  Silver  Thaler  141 

down  very  well  here.  You  can  understand  that 
it  wasn't  very  easy  for  me.  My  mother-in-law 
disliked  me  as  your  stepmother  does  you.  And 
there  was  someone  else,  too,  who  was  very  stern 
and  hard.  We  were  not  so  fond  of  one  another 
as  we  have  grown  since,  and  that  was  the 
hardest  burden  of  all.  But  then  I  noticed 
that  every  time  I  went  to  Lovdala,  the  harder 
it  was  to  come  back  again.  And  at  last  I  had 
to  take  myself  in  hand  and  ask  what  I  really 
meant  to  do.  This  was  the  place  I  had  chosen 
for  my  home,  and  here  I  had  to  live.  It  was 
really  foolish  of  me  to  spoil  my  life  by  longing 
for  what  I  had  left  behind.  I  made  up  my 
mind  never  again  to  go  to  Lovdala,  nor  to  have 
anything  more  to  do  with  the  Lovdala  people. 
I  would  cut  myself  quite  off  from  my  old  life. 
And  it  really  was  best  for  me,  for  after  that 
I  grew  happier  myself  and  the  others  changed 
too  towards  me  when  they  saw  that  I  really 
meant  to  belong  to  them. 

"  You  can  guess  that  they  watched  me  when 
you  came  to  call.  But  they  saw  and  under- 
stood that  I  did  all  I  could  not  to  be  friendly 
with  you. 

"  Yes,  indeed,  I  had  built  such  a  strong 
wall  between  you  and  me  that  I  thought  nothing 
on  earth  could  break  it  down.  But  I  hadn't 
ever  thought  that  a  Pastor's  daughter  from 
Lovdala  would  one  day  come  to  me,  little  and 
weak  as  I  was  myself  at  her  age,  and  ask  for 
my  help.  Then,  you  see,  all  my  strength  gave 
out. 

"  But  you  must  not  think  either  that  your 


142  Liliecrona's  Home 

coming  will  make  things  disagreeable  for  me 
at  home.  Do  you  know  what  I  did  just  now 
when  you  were  asleep  ?  Well,  I  just  took  hold 
of  my  husband's  shirt-sleeve  and  brought  him 
to  the  door  to  peep  at  you.  And  then  I  told 
him  all  about  it,  and  asked  if  he  had  any  objec- 
tion to  my  helping  you.  And  I  will  tell  you 
what  he  said :  '  The  little  maid  lying  in  there 
is  so  like  what  you  were  yourself  when  you  first 
came  to  me,  so  like  she  is,  that  if  there  is  any- 
one who  won't  be  good  to  her  and  help  her, 
I'll  let  him  hear  of  it,  that  I  will.'  " 


CHAPTER   X 

THE   PASTOR   FROM   FINLAND 

MAIA  LISA  fancied  she  must  be  be- 
witched, for  do  what  she  would  she 
could  not  forget  her  stepmother.  All  morning 
she  had  been  in  her  thoughts,  and  although  she 
knew  she  was  fully  occupied  making  her  candles 
at  Lovdala,  she  started  involuntarily  every  time 
the  door  opened,  for  fear  lest  dear  Mother 
should  step  in  and  see  how  badly  she  was 
behaving. 

Just  imagine  if  Fru  Raklitz  had  known  she 
was  still  asleep  at  eight  o'clock  that  morning, 
and,  worse  still,  that  her  aunt  had  been  so  kind 
as  to  bring  her  a  cup  of  coffee  in  bed,  although 
all  coffee-drinking  was  forbidden  by  His  Majesty 
the  King.  What  a  shock  for  dear  Mother  who 
insisted  so  that  all  rules  and  regulations  must 
be  obeyed  !  How  her  cheeks  would  flame  at 
the  very  idea  ! 

Or  imagine  either  if  she  could  have  seen  how 
Maia  Lisa's  aunt  left  her  work  all  day  to  sit  on 
the  bench  between  the  window  and  the  par- 
lour table  and  chat  with  her  !  Or  if  she  could 
have  heard  her  aunt  laugh  as  her  niece  talked 
about  her  stepmother  and  all  her  doings  !  For 
now  that  Maia  Lisa  was  rested  she  was  no  longer 

143 


144  Liliecrona's  Home 

a  cry-baby,  but  ready  to  make  a  joke  of  all  her 
troubles.  No  doubt  dear  Mother  had  expected 
that  this  aunt  would  treat  Maia  Lisa  as  she  did 
herself.  How  annoyed  she  would  have  been  if 
she  could  only  have  seen  how  mistaken  she 
was. 

But  indeed  it  would  not  have  been  such  a 
terrible  mishap  if  the  Pastor's  wife  had  burst 
upon  Maia  Lisa  when  she  was  alone  with  her 
aunt.  Had  she  come  a  little  later  in  the  day, 
it  would  have  been  far  worse. 

In  the  middle  of  the  morning  a  traveller  came 
driving  into  the  inn-yard.  Maia  Lisa  turned 
quickly  to  the  window  and  saw  a  tall,  fine- 
looking  man  getting  out  of  a  little  green  sleigh. 
He  was  dressed  in  a  suit  of  homespun  so  light 
that  it  was  almost  white,  and  he  was  wearing 
no  fur,  but  that  apparently  was  from  choice, 
for  it  was  evident  from  the  frank  and  hearty 
way  in  which  he  shook  hands  with  the  peasant 
host  that  he  was  a  gentleman.  Her  aunt  was 
so  accustomed  to  strangers  that  she  never 
troubled  to  turn  her  head  until  Maia  Lisa 
begged  her  to  look  out  of  the  window  and  tell 
her  who  the  handsome  man  was. 

Fortunately  her  aunt  could  answer  her  in- 
quiry. The  stranger  outside  was,  to  be  sure, 
no  one  but  the  minister  from  Finnerud,  Pastor 
Liliecrona. 

The  Pastor's  wife  ought  to  have  been  there 
to  see  how  Maia  Lisa  started  when  she  heard 
the  stranger's  name.  Even  her  aunt  noticed 
it  with  some  curiosity,  but  that  did  not  matter, 
for  Maia  Lisa  was  quite  pleased  to  tell  her  about 


The  Pastor  from  Finland      145 

the  magic  pancake  and  her  dream.  It  would 
have  been  utterly  impossible  to  tell  such  a  tale 
to  her  stepmother,  who  would  only  have  tossed 
her  head  in  contempt  at  the  folly  of  it  all. 

But  her  aunt,  on  the  other  hand,  took  it  all 
in  dead  earnest.  "  It  wouldn't  be  so  much  amiss 
for  you  if  you  could  get  him,"  she  said.  "  He 
is  not  only  good-looking,  but  a  real  fine  fellow 
as  well." 

Maia  Lisa  sat  in  utter  astonishment.  Surely 
her  aunt  never  meant  that  she  could  marry  the 
Pastor  of  Finnerud.  Why,  that  parish  lay  right 
away  in  the  north,  farther  away  even  than 
Vastmarken.  And  nobody  lived  there  but 
Finns  who  had  gone  there  two  or  three  hundred 
years  ago,  and  couldn't  even  speak  Swedish. 
Finnerud  seemed  as  outlandish  to  Maia  Lisa  as 
if  it  were  in  farthest  confines  of  Lapland. 

But  her  aunt  set  her  mind  at  rest.  She 
needn't  be  afraid  of  having  to  live  in  Finnerud, 
for,  although  Pastor  Liliecrona  had  worked  there 
for  eleven  years,  he  was  probably  leaving  now 
and  going  to  the  living  of  Sjoskoga.  Then 
Maia  Lisa  began  to  understand  why  her  aunt 
was  so  eager  over  the  matter.  She  had  not  been 
a  Pastor's  daughter  in  her  young  days  with- 
out knowing  very  well  that  Sjoskoga  was  the 
best  living  in  the  district. 

But  Finnerud  or  Sjoskoga  were  all  one  to 
Maia  Lisa  ;  her  husband  would  have  to  be  the 
Pastor  of  Svartsjo  and  live  in  Lovdala. 

"  Yes,  so  you  say  now;  but  when  the  right 
man  comes,  you'll  not  trouble  about  either 
parish  or  house." 


146  Liliecrona's  Home 

And  so  seriously  was  it  said  that  Maia  Lisa 
had  to  turn  and  look  out  of  the  window  once 
again.  Yes,  indeed  the  Pastor  was  very  hand- 
some, with  his  broad  shoulders  and  his  bright 
blue  eyes.  He  spoke  too  in  a  clear,  pleasant 
voice  that  could  be  heard  quite  well  indoors. 
His  host  stood  listening  to  him  with  a  pleased 
look  on  his  face,  whilst  the  men  hurried  from 
stall  and  barn  to  unyoke  his  horse. 

"  Look  how  they  come  from  every  nook 
and  cranny.  It  is  plain  enough  who  it  is,  for 
they  are  all  fond  of  the  Finnerud  Pastor. 
Evidently  he  is  going  to  stay  a  little  instead  of 
going  on  at  once,  so  you  will  get  a  chance  to 
speak  to  him." 

Scarcely  had  the  words  left  Fru  Margreta's 
lips  than  the  door  opened  and  the  Pastor 
came  in. 

As  he  crossed  the  threshold  he  called  out  to 
her  that  his  host  had  told  him  to  go  into  the 
grand  drawing-room,  but  he  had  no  wish  to 
sit  by  himself,  so  would  Mother  Margreta  object 
to  his  joining  her  in  the  parlour  ?  He  would 
perhaps  have  to  wait  some  long  time  in  the 
inn,  for  his  brother,  the  foreman  at  Henriks- 
berg,  had  made  an  appointment  with  him  here 
but  had  not  come.  He  did  not  know  what  he 
wanted,  for  he  had  only  heard  last  night  by  a 
special  ski  messenger  and  had  not  started  till 
early  in  the  morning,  so  that  his  brother  ought 
really  to  have  got  there  first. 

As  his  words  came  pouring  out,  Fru  Margreta 
went  to  welcome  him,  and  Maia  Lisa  fancied 
she  was  as  pleased  to  see  him  as  the  men  out- 


The  Pastor  from  Finland      147 

side.  At  last  her  aunt  got  in  a  word  to  tell  him 
he  might  sit  in  the  parlour  as  long  as  he  liked. 
He  would  not  be  coming  there  many  more  times. 
She  must  congratulate  him  on  the  great  pro- 
motion he  was  getting,  although  it  would  be  a 
sad  loss  to  her  not  to  see  him  any  more. 

He  made  an  impatient  gesture.  "  I  don't 
know  what  to  do,  Mother  Margreta.  I  think  I'll 

refuse  it  altogether.  But  what  the No, 

no,  that's  not  the  right  word  for  a  Pastor's 
tongue." 

The  cause  of  his  sudden  exclamation  was 
neither  more  nor  less  than  that  he  had  caught 
sight  of  the  Pastor's  daughter.  She  had  been 
sitting  all  the  time  on  the  window-seat  and  he 
had  only  just  noticed  her. 

Maia  Lisa  was  not  a  little  taken  aback  when 
he  went  on  to  ask  in  his  clear  voice  :  "  What 
dainty  thing  is  this  that  you  have  got  in  your 
house,  Mother  Margreta  ?  ''  Fru  Margreta  ex- 
plained who  she  was,  but  he  did  not  behave  any 
more  properly  for  her  answer. 

He  could  well  believe  that  she  was  one  of  the 
beautiful  daughters  of  the  Lovdala  parsonage. 
How  glad  he  was  to  get  a  sight  of  her  at  last, 
after  the  many  times  he  had  begged  Mother 
Margreta  to  invite  him  to  meet  her  niece,  so 
that  he  might  know  if  what  people  said  of  her 
was  true. 

Maia  Lisa  was  not  only  taken  aback,  but  really 
frightened.  It  wasn't  fitting  to  sit  and  listen 

to  such  things.  If  her  stepmother But 

true  !  Her  stepmother  was  busy  making  candles 
in  Lovdala.  Her  aunt  evidently  saw  her  dis- 


148  Liliecrona's  Home 

tress  and  tried  to  turn  his  glances  in  another 
direction. 

Surely  he  was  never  thinking  of  refusing 
Sjoskoga  ?  she  said.  He  ought  to  be  glad  at 
his  age  to  have  the  offer  of  important  work  like 
that.  She  had  been  told  that  as  a  rule  it  was 
only  old  men  who  managed  to  get  such  a  fat 
living  ! 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders.  He  had  never 
meant  to  go  there.  Fortune  had  been  too  kind 
to  him,  for  he  was  quite  content  where  he  was. 

But  surely  he  had  applied  for  it  ? 

Oh  yes,  all  his  relatives  were  to  blame  for 
that,  for  they  had  driven  him  to  it. 

He  had  forgotten  Maia  Lisa  by  now  as  com- 
pletely as  if  she  had  never  been  there  at  all. 
He  was  thinking  of  his  own  affairs  as  he  walked 
up  and  down  the  room  with  hasty  steps  and 
knitted  brow.  He  had  a  long  lock  of  hair  over 
his  forehead  which  he  continually  seized  and 
pushed  straight  up  on  end  only  to  let  it  fall  down 
again.  He  did  not  seem  to  be  at  all  satisfied 
himself  with  his  appearance,  although  for  her 
part  she  was  obliged  to  own  that  he  looked 
equally  well  whatever  he  did 

At  last  he  stopped  in  front  of  Fru  Margreta 
and  asked  if  he  might  beg  for  some  advice. 
He  had  turned  the  matter  over  in  his  mind  so 
often  that  by  now  he  did  not  know  right  from 
wrong. 

At  this,  Maia  Lisa  got  up.  She  thought  she 
had  no  right  to  sit  there  listening  to  his  secrets. 
But  he  was  one  of  those  people  who  have 
eyes  in  the  back  of  their  head.  And  no  sooner 


The  Pastor  from  Finland      149 

did  he  notice  her  than  he  begged  her  to  stay 
where  she  was.  It  was  such  a  pleasure  to  have 
something  beautiful  to  look  at. 

But  she  had  already  grown  so  accustomed 
to  him  that  she  never  even  blushed.  And 
indeed  there  was  no  reason  to  feel  abashed,  for 
she  saw  plainly  enough  that  he  only  looked 
upon  her  as  a  beautiful  doll,  and  it  certainly 
never  occurred  to  him  for  a  single  moment  that 
the  doll  could  have  both  ears  and  thoughts  of 
her  own. 

When  he  began  to  talk  with  her  aunt  he  sat 
down  on  the  edge  of  the  broad  table  with  his 
back  to  the  Pastor's  daughter,  so  that  she 
thought  she  was  far  from  his  mind,  but  at  that 
moment  he  got  astride  on  a  chair  and  fixed  his 
eyes  on  her  face. 

Well,  to  begin  with,  he  wanted  to  ask  Mother 
Margreta  if  she  had  heard  what  a  great  deal 
of  trouble  he  had  caused  the  folk  in  Finland 
ever  since  he  went  there.  Did  she  know  that 
the  very  first  time  he  had  preached  in  the 
church  at  Finnerud  the  old  Finn  men  and 
women  had  sat  there  wondering  what  misdeed 
he  could  have  committed  to  be  sent  up  to  them  ? 

Fru  Margreta  had  her  answer  ready,  but  he 
gave  her  no  time  to  speak.  Yes,  it  really  was 
a  fact  that  they  had  done  so,  and  perhaps  not 
quite  without  some  show  of  reason.  They 
knew  what  a  house  they  had  to  offer  their 
Pastor  and  how  much  stipend  he  got,  and 
they  knew  well  enough  they  could  not  expect 
any  Pastors  except  those  no  one  else  wanted. 
And  then  when  they  saw  him 


150  Liliecrona's  Home 

The  fine-looking  man  stopped  short,  quite 
at  a  loss  how  to  go  on,  but  Fru  Margreta 
finished  the  sentence  for  him. 

"  They  certainly  thought  the  Pastor  was 
too  young  and  too  good-looking  to  come  to 
them." 

He  started  off  again  at  full  speed.  Oh  well, 
they  saw  he  wasn't  a  hundred  years  old,  and 
although  they  didn't  understand  what  he  said 
in  his  Swedish  tongue,  yet  they  heard  that  he 
could  both  talk  and  sing.  They  agreed,  these 
old  men  and  women,  that  he  was  one  who 
ought  to  be  living  in  a  parsonage  with  lofty 
rooms  and  large  windows,  and  that  he  would 
never  have  come  up  to  them  if  there  had  not 
been  something  wrong  with  him. 

"  Perhaps  it  wasn't  very  easy  to  think  any- 
thing else  ?  " 

No,  that  was  just  why.  And  no  sooner  did 
one  of  them  go  down  over  the  Swedish  border 
to  sell  bear  hides  and  sheep  skins  than  they 
told  him  to  be  sure  and  find  out  what  was  wrong 
with  the  Pastor. 

And  Pastor  Liliecrona  jumped  up  from  the 
chair  and  paced  up  and  down  the  room.  Evi- 
dently he  was  still  excited  about  it  after  all 
these  years.  But  Fru  Margreta  only  laughed 
and  asked  if  their  messenger  had  found  out 
anything. 

Ah,  what  were  they  likely  to  find  ?  When 
they  came  back,  they  knew  nothing  more  than 
that  he  had  been  sent  up  to  Finnerud  at  his 
own  request. 

But  the  old  Finn   men  and   women   stuck 


The  Pastor  from  Finland      151 

to  their  own  opinion.  It  was,  of  course,  im- 
possible to  believe  that  he  had  come  to  them 
because  they  were  desolate  and  neglected  and 
parted  from  their  own  people.  There  must  be 
some  other  reason. 

"  You  see,  Pastor,  they  are  so  clever  up  in 
Finnerud  !  You  mustn't  expect  too  much  of 
them." 

But  now  when  they  had  heard  quite  certainly 
that  he  had  done  nothing  wrong,  they  had  to 
believe  it.  But  they  were  not  satisfied  until 
they  had  hit  upon  an  explanation  to  suit  them. 
No  doubt  he  had  only  come  up  to  them  to  get 
a  little  practice  in  his  calling.  He  would  cer- 
tainly go  elsewhere  as  soon  as  he  felt  a  little 
more  at  home  in  the  pulpit. 

"  And  they  were  not  right  in  that  either  ?  " 

"  No,  that  they  weren't,  for  I  have  been 
there  now  eleven  years/'  And  he  added  with 
an  angry  laugh,  "  But  even  now  they  must 
needs  puzzle  their  heads  over  me.  There  isn't 
a  better-born  man  in  the  parish,  and  if  I  had 
grumbled  over  my  loneliness,  that  they  would 
have  understood.  Or  if  I  had  shut  myself  up 
in  the  Parsonage  with  only  my  books  for 
company,  that  they  would  have  understood  too. 
But  a  Pastor  who  was  out  and  about  and 
content  to  associate  with  Finn  peasants  !  A 
Pastor  who  wanted  to  know  how  they  cultivated 
their  boggy  lands,  or  how  they  burnt  their 
clearings,  and  a  Pastor  who  went  hunting  with 
them,  was  indeed,  beyond  their  understanding." 

Now  he  was  astride  the  chair  again  and 
twisted  it  half  round  so  that  he  sat  eye  to  eye 


152  Liliecrona's  Home 

with  Maia  Lisa.  But  he  went  on  speaking  to 
her  aunt. 

When  he  had  been  some  years  in  Finnerud 
he  began  one  Sunday  to  preach  in  Finnish. 
And  every  creature  had  been  so  touched  that 
there  wasn't  a  dry  eye  in  the  church,  and  it 
certainly  did  not  occur  to  anyone  to  question 
his  motives  before  the  service  was  over.  But, 
once  out  of  the  church,  they  had  begun  in  the 
same  old  way  again.  Whatever  reason  had  the 
Pastor  for  speaking  in  Finnish  ?  They  went  to 
Peter,  the  Pastor's  man,  and  questioned  him. 
Had  he  understood  that  the  Pastor  was  wanting 
another  living  ?  Peterkin,  however,  had  never 
noticed  but  what  his  master  was  quite  con- 
tent to  live  in  an  ordinary  Finn  hut  with  only 
one  room  and  a  fire  without  a  chimney,  so  that 
a  hole  had  to  be  made  in  the  roof  to  let  out  the 
smoke.  So  they  went  their  way,  not  under- 
standing any  better  than  before.  It  was  no 
wonder  he  got  tired  of  such  things,  was  it  ? 

The  Pastor  must  remember,  said  Fru  Mar- 
greta,  "  that  we  down  here  have  not  always 
been  very  pleasant  to  strangers." 

But  not  to  understand  such  a  simple  matter 
as  that  their  Pastor  wished  them  well !  They 
would  have  been  quite  pleased  if  he  had  gone 
with  a  long  face  grieving  that  he  had  to  waste 
the  best  years  of  his  life  amongst  poor  Finn 
peasants.  It  made  them  quite  uneasy  to  see 
him  content  and  happy. 

One  year  he  told  some  of  the  Finn  children 
to  come  to  him  and  learn  Swedish,  so  that 
they  would  not  be  so  helpless  as  their  fathers 


The  Pastor  from  Finland      153 

when  they  went  to  the  Swedish  courts  or 
markets.  But  when  the  old  Finns  heard  the 
children  begin  to  talk  Swedish  the  same  distrust 
awoke  again.  So,  straight  they  went  to  Peter. 
Perhaps  the  Pastor  wanted  more  money  ? 
But  Peter  told  them  he  had  never  heard  but 
what  the  pastor  was  satisfied  with  pay  no 
better  than  the  wages  that  a  Swedish  peasant 
would  pay  his  farm-hand.  Peterkin  was  the 
only  one  up  there  with  a  grain  of  sense. 

It  had  been  just  the  same  tale  when  he 
taught  the  Finn  women  how  to  grow  flax. 
He  had  gone  with  them,  planted  it,  hackled  it 
and  teased  it.  But  when  they  had  got  so  far 
as  to  have  their  own  flax  to  spin  in  their  huts 
their  old  suspicions  came  back.  Why  had  the 
Pastor  taught  them  how  to  grow  flax  ?  They 
could  not  possibly  understand,  so  they  were 
obliged  to  apply  to  Peterkin  again.  The 
Pastor,  they  supposed,  was  not  wanting  a 
fresh  road  up  to  his  house  ?  But  Peter  answered 
that  his  master  was  content  with  the  road  he 
had,  although  it  was  so  rough  and  full  of  holes 
that  it  was  scarcely  possible  for  a  horse  to 
get  up  it  except  when  it  was  covered  with  snow 
and  ice. 

Well  yes,  Mother  Margreta  could  well  under- 
stand how  annoying  all  that  was.  Perhaps 
that  was  why  he  had  tried  for  something 
else? 

It  had  had  something  to  do  with  it,  for  he 
had  been  so  vexed  at  never  being  able  to  win 
their  confidence.  But  the  chief  reason  had 
been  that  his  mother  and  all  the  family  had  so 


154  Liliecrona's  Home 

overwhelmed  him  with  entreaties.  They,  in- 
deed, had  been  just  as  impossible  to  deal  with 
as  the  Finn  peasants.  They  were  for  ever 
writing  to  him  that  he  was  wasting  his  life, 
and  urging  him  to  try  for  a  living  farther  south 
whenever  a  fairly  good  one  fell  vacant.  They 
had  worn  him  out  with  their  arguments,  of 
course,  but  he  had  paid  no  heed,  for  he  wanted 
to  do  his  duty.  Then  when  Sjoskoga 

He  stopped  short  and  went  and  stood  straight 
in  front  of  the  Pastor's  daughter.  "  Of  course," 
he  said  thoughtfully,  looking  at  her,  "  I  could 
never  get  such  a  wife  as  this  if  I  stayed  in  Fin- 
nerud." 

It  was  plain  enough  that  he  admired  her 
beauty,  but  nothing  more.  He  looked  at  her  as 
he  would  have  looked  at  a  painted  picture. 
Not  even  her  stepmother  could  have  found  any 
tenderness  in  the  long  glances  he  fixed  upon  her. 

And  in  another  second  he  was  telling  of  his 
troubles  again. 

When  the  old  rural  dean  Cameen  of  Sjoskoga 
had  followed  his  wife  and  died  last  summer, 
leaving  his  post  vacant,  it  had  struck  him  that 
he  might  apply  for  it.  He  thought  he  might 
as  well  please  his  mother  by  sending  in  his 
application,  as  there  was  no  chance  of  its 
leading  to  anything.  Sjoskoga  had  always 
been  given  to  some  old  professor  or  head  of  a 
school  who  petitioned  the  King  directly  for  it. 
And  besides,  he  rather  wanted  to  see  how  they 
would  take  it  in  Finnerud.  But,  after  all,  it 
was  mostly  a  little  feeling  of  mischief  that  sent 
him  down  to  Karlstad  with  his  testimonials. 


The  Pastor  from  Finland       155 

He  hesitated  many  a  time  on  the  way. 
Perhaps  he  would  only  be  laughed  at ;  a  chap- 
lain from  Finnerud  was  certainly  taking  a 
good  deal  on  himself  in  applying  for  a  great 
living  like  that.  Yet,  as  he  was  on  the  way, 
he  thought  he  would  go  as  far  as  Karlstad,  and 
not  hand  in  his  papers  until  he  saw  who  else 
had  applied. 

The  journey  took  longer  than  he  had  ex- 
pected, and  he  only  reached  the  town  just  an 
hour  before  the  closing  of  the  application  list. 
He  had  barely  time  to  stable  his  horse  and 
hurry  up  to  the  Consistory  Court. 

As  he  climbed  the  steps,  however,  he  was  so 
overcome  with  remorse  that  he  determined 
to  go  back  again.  But  the  registrar  was  a 
special  friend  of  his,  and  as  he  was  there  any- 
way, he  would  just  step  in  and  see  him.  He  need 
not  mention  Sjoskoga,  but  say  he  had  come 
down  to  Karlstad  to  see  his  mother. 

No  sooner  had  he  put  his  head  round  the 
door  than  the  registrar  exclaimed  :  "  Someone 
at  last  to  apply  for  Sjoskoga.  I  have  been 
expecting  you  ever  since  the  living  has  been 
vacant." 

At  first  he  thought  his  friend  was  only  joking, 
so  he  answered  that  he  had  come  to  town  to 
meet  his  mother.  How  could  he  imagine 
he  was  thinking  of  Sjoskoga  ?  He  was  not 
so  far  left  to  himself  as  not  to  know  that 
His  Majesty  the  King  would  give  Sjoskoga 
to  some  old  learned  divine  from  Upsala  or 
Lund. 

"  I  should  think  you  are  all  of  that  opinion," 


156  Liliecrona's  Home 

said  the  registrar.  "  You  are  all  so  modest 
that  no  one  ventures  to  apply.  But  times  are 
changed  since  the  last  King's  death.  I  was 
delighted  when  you  came  in,  for  I  have  only 
had  two  applications.  We  must  have  one 
more  at  any  rate,  so  out  with  your  papers." 

In  this  way  he  had  been  enticed  into  leaving 
his  application.  When  he  got  home,  for  a  few 
days  he  wondered  if  it  would  be  successful. 
But  he  was  soon  busy  with  his  usual  occupa- 
tions and  had  forgotten  the  whole  matter,  when 
one  day  he  had  a  communication  from  the 
Consistory.  He  was  third  on  the  select  list, 
and  in  a  few  weeks  he  was  to  come  to  Sjoskoga 
for  his  trial  sermon. 

It  was  no  pleasure  to  him — no,  not  for  a 
moment — indeed,  he  would  have  liked  to  with- 
draw his  application,  but  he  did  not  do  so 
because  he  had  no  wish  to  have  it  said  that 
he  was  afraid  to  preach  in  a  parish  where  there 
were  so  many  rich  peasants  and  gentlefolk.  As 
Mother  Margreta  knew,  he  came  of  an  old  Pastor's 
family,  and  did  not  want  people  to  think  he 
was  unworthy  of  his  father  and  grandfather. 
So  he  went  and  preached  whilst  his  hearers 
sat  and  listened  devoutly.  But  he  did  not 
know  what  they  were  thinking.  He  was  glad  to 
get  home  again  and  feel  that  that  was,  no  doubt, 
the  end  of  the  whole  matter.  But  just  before 
Christmas  he  received  an  intimation  that  all 
had  gone  well  and  that  he  had  been  chosen 
unanimously. 

He  said  this  in  such  distressed  tones  that 
Fru  Margreta  could  not  help  laughing. 


The  Pastor  from  Finland      157 

If  he  really  didn't  want  to  go,  he  could  with- 
draw. 

That  was  exactly  what  he  had  tried  to  do, 
but  then  the  bishop  himself  wrote  urging  him 
not  to  refuse.  There  was  every  prospect 
of  his  nomination  being  confirmed.  His  mother, 
too,  got  word  of  the  matter,  and  wrote  begging 
and  praying  him  not  to  throw  away  such  a 
piece  of  good  fortune.  And  not  only  his 
mother,  but  his  brothers,  his  sisters,  and  even 
his  cousins.  He  had  not  known  until  then 
how  many  relations  he  had. 

Well,  and  they  were  right  too,  of  course. 
You  cannot  be 

He  interrupted  her  as  he  almost  ran  across 
the  room  and  pressed  his  clenched  fist  against 
his  forehead  in  a  kind  of  almost  comic  despair. 
Then  there  were  those  blessed  Finn  peasants. 
Did  Mother  Margreta  know  what  they  had 
taken  into  their  heads  to  do  ?  As  soon  as  they 
heard  that  he  might  be  going  to  move  they 
had  cut  timber  in  the  forest  and  driven  it  up 
to  build  him  a  new  house.  They  had  not 
actually  increased  his  stipend  in  money,  but 
they  had  done  it  in  another  way.  One  day  a 
fine  elk  skin  lay  in  his  sledge,  another  time  he 
found  a  tub  of  butter  outside  his  door.  They 
said  not  a  word,  indeed,  when  they  met  him, 
but  when  he  was  in  the  pulpit,  young  and  old 
fixed  their  eyes  on  him,  so  that  he  knew  they 
were  every  one  of  them  thinking  :  "  Surely 
you  will  not  forsake  us.  If  you  do,  far  better 
you  had  never  come." 

So,  at  last  he  knew  that  they  wanted  to  keep 


158  Liliecrona's  Home 

him.  He  stepped  up  to  Fru  Margreta,  sat  down 
beside  her  and  took  her  hard,  toil-worn  hand 
in  his.  "  Now  think,  Mother  Margreta,"  he 
said  in  such  an  earnest,  tender  voice  that 
both  she  and  Maia  Lisa  felt  their  eyes  fill  with 
tears,  "  suppose  anyone  came  and  told  you 
that  you  could  move  to  a  great  fine  estate  on 
condition  that  you  left  this  home  and  all  you  had 
held  dear  here  all  your  life  !  What  would  you 
do  then  ?  w 

But  no  one  heard  what  Mother  Margreta 
meant  to  answer,  for  Maia  Lisa  could  not 
possibly  restrain  herself  any  longer.  She  rushed 
up  to  the  Pastor  with  flaming  cheeks,  and  in  a 
voice  trembling  with  eagerness  cried  out  that 
most  certainly  he  must  stay  in  Finnerud. 
Why  should  he  go  to  Sjoskoga  ?  No  doubt 
they  could  get  along  well  enough  without  him 
there.  But  when  he  had  done  so  much  for  the 
Finn  peasants,  how  could  he  ever  dream  of 
leaving  them  ? 

She  would  have  said  a  good  deal  more  if 
someone  had  not  just  chanced  to  come  to  the 
door.  Then  she  came  to  herself  again,  and 
although  it  was  not  her  stepmother  but  only 
one  of  the  maids,  she  stopped  short  in  con- 
fusion and  would  not  go  on. 

But  the  young  Pastor  understood  what  she 
meant.  He  jumped  up  and  came  towards  her 
with  outstretched  arms.  He  looked  as  though 
he  wanted  to  clasp  her  to  his  heart,  but  he  only 
took  both  hands  and  pressed  them  between 
his  own.  "  Mamsell  Maia  Lisa,  dearest  Mam- 
sell  Maia  Lisa,"  he  said  very  earnestly,  "  Mam- 


The  Pastor  from  Finland       159 

sell  Maia  Lisa,  you  are  the  very  first  of  my  own 
position  to  believe  that  I  am  doing  any  good 
up  there.  I  thank  you  with  all  my  heart. 

Indeed,  indeed,   I  will " 

He  stopped  short  just  as  the  promise  was  on 
his  lips.  The  words  died  unuttered,  his  hands 
twitched,  and  as  the  Pastor's  daughter  looked 
up  at  him  in  astonishment  she  noticed  that 
every  feature  was  contorted  with  the  deepest 
suffering.  He  turned  away,  went  down  the 
room,  and  came  back  to  bend  over  her  as  he 
said  in  a  voice  half  inaudible  from  strong 
emotion  :  "I  will  refuse  it  if  I  can.  If  I  am 
not  able,  it  is  Mamsell  Maia  Lisa's  fault." 


CHAPTER   XI 

THE   SMITH   FROM   HENRIKSBERG 

LL  that  day  there  was  but  one  short 
hour  when  Maia  Lisa  forgot  her  step- 
mother, and  that  was  in  the  evening  when  she 
sat  with  Pastor  Liliecrona  and  all  the  house- 
hold round  the  great  log  fire  in  the  living- 
room  listening  to  the  tall  dark  smith  from 
Henriksberg,  as  he  leant  against  one  of  the 
cupboards  playing  on  the  master's  fiddle. 

It  was  so  pleasant  then  that  Maia  Lisa  thought 
she  understood  how  her  aunt  could  feel  con- 
tent to  be  a  peasant's  wife.  It  was  so  won- 
derfully comfortable  in  the  evening  to  sit 
round  the  fire  in  the  midst  of  one's  servants, 
all  busy  with  their  work  and  all  cheerful  and 
ready  for  a  chat.  Master  and  man,  mistress 
and  maid,  all  talked  together  here  as  if  there 
were  no  distinction  between  them.  Was  there 
after  all  any  special  happiness  in  living  as 
gentlefolk  and  trying  to  be  thought  grander 
than  other  people  ?  Did  such  a  life  bear  in 
the  end  any  better  fruit  than  loneliness  and 
sorrow  ? 

Where  is  there  such  safety  and  comfort  as 
in  an  old  peasant  home  ?  Maia  Lisa  felt  they 

160 


The  Smith  from  Henriksberg      161 

were  nearer  nature  there  than  anywhere  else, 
that  their  life  was  built  on  stronger  foundations, 
and  not  exposed  to  so  many  dangers  as  other 
people's.  Think  what  change  and  how  many 
dangers  in  the  world  outside  !  Now  whilst 
the  dark-haired  smith  was  playing,  her  thoughts 
went  back  to  what  she  had  heard  that  day 
about  the  manager  of  Henriksberg,  the  man 
who  had  once  been  such  a  wonderful  violin 
player. 

It  was  Pastor  Liliecrona  who  had  told  her 
about  his  brother.  He  had  been  expecting 
him  at  Svanskog  all  day  long,  and  no  doubt 
that  was  why  they  happened  to  talk  so  much 
about  him. 

Maia  Lisa  had  had  the  comfort  of  knowing 
that  the  handsome  Pastor  who  at  first  had 
only  looked  upon  her  as  a  beautiful  doll  had 
scarcely  spoken  a  word  to  anyone  else  ever 
since  the  moment  when  she  had,  so  to  speak, 
fallen  upon  him  and  told  him  that  he  must  stop 
in  Finnerud  and  not  even  dream  of  moving 
to  Sjoskoga. 

He  must  then  have  seen  that  she  was  a  human 
being  like  himself,  for  after  that  he  had  not 
troubled  to  look  at  her,  but  had  talked  to  her 
instead  the  whole  afternoon ;  and  very  pleasant 
it  had  been,  for  he  was  as  kindly  as  he  was 
unaffected  and  simple-hearted.  She  found  it 
quite  as  easy  to  talk  to  him  as  to  her  own 
dear  father. 

He  had  taken  her  out  with  him  in  the  after- 
noon, for  he  never  could  sit  indoors  hour  after 
hour,  and  they  had  walked  up  and  down  the 


1 62  Liliecrona's  Home 

high  road  talking  of  his  brother,  until  the  day 
began  to  draw  in. 

Liliecrona  came  of  generations  of  pastors  no 
less  than  she  did,  and  could  boast  that  his 
father,  grandfather,  and  great-grandfather  had 
all  followed  one  another  in  the  same  rural 
deanery  just  as  she  prided  herself  that  her 
mother,  grandmother,  and  great-grandmother 
had  been  the  wives  of  successive  pastors  of 
the  same  church. 

If  his  father  had  lived,  the  youngest  son, 
Sven,  would,  no  doubt,  have  studied  for  the 
ministry  as  his  brothers  had  done  before  him. 
But  when  his  mother  was  left  a  widow  with  a 
large  family  to  provide  for,  she  had  not  been 
able  to  keep  him  at  school.  But  an  old  friend 
of  her  husband's,  Herr  Altringer,  the  owner  of 
the  Ekeby  ironworks,  had  offered  to  take 
charge  of  him  on  condition  that  he  might  bring 
him  up  as  an  engineer.  His  offer  was  most 
gratefully  accepted,  and  when  Sven  was  four- 
teen years  old  he  was  sent  to  the  Henriksberg 
works,  which  Herr  Altringer  had  just  bought. 
Herr  Altringer  wished  him  to  learn  his  business 
from  the  very  beginning,  so  he  was  set  to 
sweep  the  office,  drag  coal  into  the  smithy, 
and  run  errands  for  all  and  sundry. 

Sven  was  kept  at  these  tasks  till  he  was 
seventeen,  but  then  one  day  the  works  manager 
was  informed  that  one  of  the  forge  workers 
was  very  ill.  He  went  down  to  the  workshops, 
stood  in  the  doorway  of  the  smith's  room, 
looked  at  the  sick  man  for  a  moment,  and  then 
went  straight  to  the  office  where  the  foreman 


The  Smith  from  Henriksberg     163 

was  sitting  writing.  "  You  must  look  after  the 
works  for  a  couple  of  days,"  said  the  manager. 
"  I  have  to  go  off  to  the  Finns  and  buy  in  coal." 

So  off  he  went  whilst  the  foreman  took  a 
comfortable  seat  on  the  office  sofa,  and  thought 
it  was  a  fine  thing  to  be  master  for  a  little. 
But  it  was  not  very  long  before  he,  too,  was 
called  down  to  the  workshops.  Now  it  was  one 
of  the  other  workmen  who  was  attacked  in  the 
same  way  as  the  hammer  smith.  The  foreman 
went  down  at  once  to  visit  the  invalid,  stood 
awhile  on  the  threshold  of  his  room  looking  at 
him,  and  went  straightway  to  the  stream 
where  the  apprentice  lad  was  generally  to  be 
found  fishing  for  bleak. 

And  sure  enough  he  found  Sven  there  and 
asked  him  to  come  to  the  office.  "  Look  here, 
Liliecrona,"  he  said,  "  the  manager  is  away  and 
I  have  been  invited  to  a  friend's  at  a  distance, 
so  you  must  just  manage  to  look  after  the  works 
for  a  couple  of  days.  Here  are  the  keys  and  the 
cash-box  ;  all  you  have  to  do  is  to  see  that  the 
men  go  on  with  their  work  as  usual."  With 
that  he  went  off  and  the  apprentice  lad  sat 
down  on  the  office  chair  and  thought  how  fine 
it  was  to  be  master  of  Henriksberg.  But  he 
had  not  sat  there  long  before  a  message  came 
from  the  works  that  the  sick  men  were  worse. 
He  tore  down  to  the  main  building  and  went  into 
the  hammer  smith's  room.  He  did  not  stop  on 
the  threshold,  however,  like  the  other  two, 
but  stepped  up  to  the  sick  man  as  he  lay  there 
with  a  flushed  and  swollen  face  terrible  to  look 
at.  "  Do  you  know  what  is  the  matter  with 


164  Liliecrona's  Home 

you  ?  "  he  asked  the  smith.  "  Smallpox," 
came  the  answer  ;  "  and  now  you  must  go  to 
the  cupboard  in  the  office  where  the  manager 
keeps  his  drugs  and  get  me  some  camphor 
and  salicylic,  that  is  if  you  dare  stop  and  not 
run  away  like  the  others." 

And  Sven  had  stopped,  although,  to  end 
with,  he  had  nearly  all  the  workmen  down  with 
smallpox.  Not  a  word  came  from  either 
manager  or  foreman,  and  there  was  not  a 
doctor  to  be  found  for  sixty  miles  round. 
He  went  round  with  the  old  housekeeper  and 
gave  the  sufferers  all  the  remedies  he  had. 
Some  died  and  some  got  better.  But  as  the 
epidemic  could  not  go  on  for  ever,  they  saw 
the  end  of  it  at  last.  Then  everything  fell  back 
into  the  usual  routine.  The  foreman  enjoyed 
himself  for  five  months,  and  then  came  back, 
whilst  the  manager  took  a  good  half-year  to 
buy  in  his  coal  before  he,  too,  made  his  appear- 
ance again.  Then  the  apprentice  lad  had  to 
sweep  out  the  office  and  catch  bleak  in  the 
stream  as  he  had  done  before. 

But  although  the  Henriksberg  works  lie  in 
an  out-of-the-way  place  enough,  the  story  crept 
out  and  spread  far  and  wide.  So  one  day,  the 
master,  Herr  Altringer,  came  on  a  visit.  Not 
a  word  did  he  say  of  the  matter  either  to  the 
manager  or  the  foreman,  but  simply  asked 
how  young  Liliecrona  was  getting  on.  The 
manager  gave  him  a  very  good  character.  He 
believed  the  lad  would  make  a  fine  engineer 
if  only  he  would  show  a  little  more  interest 
in  the  work.  He  was  not  without  ability,  but 


.  The  Smith  from  Henriksberg     165 

inclined  to  go  about  dreaming,  as  though 
nothing  in  the  business  was  any  concern  of  his. 
Herr  Altringer  asked  them  to  send  him  to  the 
office,  and  when  he  came,  he  looked  him 
straight  in  the  eyes  and  asked  why  he  had  not 
run  away  like  the  others  when  the  smallpox 
came. 

Sven  answered  never  a  word,  only  flushed 
up  as  though  that  was  the  very  worst  question 
he  could  ask.  "  Weren't  you  afraid  ?  '  "  Well, 
yes,  I  was."  "  Did  you  think  you  were  re- 
sponsible for  the  works  ?  "  "  No,  not  that/' 
But  at  last  Herr  Altringer  got  at  the  truth. 
Sven  had  stopped  because  the  manager's  violin 
had  been  left  hanging  on  the  office  wall,  and  he 
had  been  able  to  play  on  it  every  day  whilst 
he  was  alone.  "I  see/'  said  Altringer;  "so 
you  like  playing  the  fiddle.  We'll  ask  the 
manager  to  lend  you  his  violin  once  again,  and 
you  shall  play  us  a  tune." 

And  Sven  was  not  afraid  of  that.  He  tuned 
up  and  played  a  simple  little  air  that  he  had 
learnt  from  the  smiths.  At  first  Herr  Altringer 
laughed,  but  he  soon  grew  serious  when  he 
noticed  that  the  lad  put  something  into  his 
music  that  made  the  poor  old  fiddle  sing  in 
quite  another  way.  "  See  now,"  he  said,  "  to- 
morrow you  shall  come  with  me.  You  shall 
go  to  Stockholm  and  learn  to  play  the  violin." 

Maia  Lisa  thought  it  a  charming  story,  but 
there  was  just  one  thing  that  worried  her.  Why 
was  he  back  again  now  in  Henriksberg  ? 
Hadn't  he  been  successful  in  Stockholm  ? 

Successful,  yes  indeed.    For  five  years  he  had 


1 66  Liliecrona's  Home 

studied  there  until  he  was  a  perfect  master  of 
his  art,  or  at  least  had  learnt  so  much  that  no 
one  in  the  country  could  teach  him  any  more. 
Herr  Altringer  was  pleased  with  him,  and 
wondered  if  he  should  send  him  abroad  so  that 
he  might  be  equal  with  the  very  best. 

But  three  years  ago  Sven  had  come  over  quite 
unexpectedly  to  Ekeby  to  ask  Herr  Altringer 
if  he  had  a  foreman's  place  empty  in  any  one 
of  his  many  ironworks.  "  Well,  it's  not  im- 
possible," said  Altringer.  "  Have  you  a  friend 
that  you  want  to  put  in  ?  "  No ;  Sven  wanted 
to  get  the  post  for  himself.  He  had  been  in 
ironworks  so  many  years  that  he  thought  he 
could  fill  a  foreman's  place.  "  And  how  about 
the  music  ?  "  It  was  all  over  with  the  music. 
He  did  not  think  he  would  ever  touch  a  bow 
again. 

Altringer  looked  at  him  more  closely.  Sven 
had  always  had  a  touch  of  sadness  in  his  eyes, 
but  now  his  whole  body  was  the  very  picture 
of  grief.  "  I  see  something  serious  has  hap- 
pened," said  Herr  Altringer.  "  You  must  tell 
me  what  it  is,  for  just  as  you  came  into  the 
office  I  was  thinking  over  my  plan  of  letting 
you  go  abroad." 

Sven  could  scarcely  answer.  He  stood  biting 
his  lip  and  fighting  hard  to  steady  his  voice. 
"  Have  you  not  heard,  sir,  what  happened 
when  I  last  played  ?  "  No ;  Altringer  had 
heard  nothing;  and  Sven  had  to  tell  what  it 
was.  There  had  been  a  ball  in  a  great  room 
down  at  Naset,  and  Sven  had  been  among  the 
guests.  But  they  had  only  had  an  old,  worn- 


The  Smith  from  Henriksberg      167 

out  piano,  so  that  there  was  no  life  nor  spirit 
in  the  dancing.  Then  Sven  took  out  his  fiddle 
and  it  was  a  different  matter  at  once.  Young 
and  old  stepped  out,  and  every  time  he  stopped 
they  clapped  their  hands  and  stamped  as  they 
called  to  him  to  begin  again.  But  what  a 
terrible  ending  to  it  all !  One  of  the  daughters 
of  the  house  had  danced  too  violently.  In  the 
very  middle  of  the  wildest  dance  she  had  clung 
to  her  partner's  arm  and  then  sunk  on  to  the 
floor.  And  she  had  never  risen  again.  She  was 
dead. 

Altringer  understood,  of  course,  what  a 
heavy  blow  that  was,  but  he  did  not  think  a 
young  man's  career  ought  to  be  ruined  for  such 
a  reason.  "  You  will  get  over  that,"  he  said. 
"  It  was  a  misfortune  that  might  have  hap- 
pened to  anyone,  and  in  my  opinion  her  partner 
who  kept  her  dancing  was  most  to  blame." 
"No,"  said  Sven;  "it  was  I  who  made  her 
dance.  I  played  for  no  one  but  her  all  the 
evening.  It  was  beautiful  to  see  her,  for  she 
was  as  quick  and  light  as  the  flames  of  a  blazing 
fire.  She  danced  for  me  and  I  played  for 
her." 

Altringer  only  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "  You 
know  that's  just  nonsense,"  he  said.  "  Perhaps 
it  is  no  wonder  you  feel  like  that  so  short  a  time 
after  it  has  happened,  but  next  week  when  I 
send  you  abroad  it  will  pass." 

"  No,  sir,  it  will  not  pass.  Wherever  you 
may  send  me,  I  can  never  forget  that  I  have 
played  a  living  mortal  to  death." 

Altringer  looked  at  him  once  more.    "  Were 


1 68  Liliecrona's  Home 

you  in  love  with  her  ?  "  "  Yes,"  answered 
Sven.  "  That  very  evening  I  had  asked  her  to 
be  my  wife." 

Not  another  word  did  Altringer  say  to  urge 
him  to  go  abroad.  "  You  shall  be  foreman  in 
Henriksberg  until  you  have  forgotten,"  he 
said.  "  I  do  not  think  you  know  all  that  is 
needed  to  fill  the  post,  but  you  can  learn ;  and 
I  know,  too,  that  I  can  rely  upon  you."  And 
this  was  how  it  came  to  pass  that  Sven  Lilie- 
crona  had  given  up  his  violin  and  become  a 
foreman  of  ironworks.  Maia  Lisa  had  listened 
in  dead  silence  without  once  interrupting  the 
speaker.  How  strange  it  was,  she  thought,  that 
she  was  so  soon  to  see  the  man  who  had  loved 
so  deeply  and  gone  through  such  sorrow.  For 
a  long  time  she  could  not  say  a  word,  but  sud- 
denly she  turned  to  Pastor  Liliecrona  and  asked 
if  his  brother  was  dark. 

Dark,  yes  that  he  was,  dark  as  night. 

The  moment  she  had  asked  she  thought  what 
a  very  foolish  question  it  was.  But  all  the  time 
that  Pastor  Liliecrona  was  speaking  of  his 
brother  she  had  been  wondering  if  he  had 
looked  like  the  tall  dark  smith  from  Henriks- 
berg. Hadn't  he  just  the  same  depths  of 
sorrow  in  his  eyes  ?  Why,  she  could  not  think, 
but  somehow  in  her  thoughts  the  two  had 
melted  into  one  and  the  same. 

And  even  now  whilst  the  smith  was  standing 
away  by  the  cupboard  playing  his  gay  polka 
tunes  she  found  it  hard  not  to  think  that  he 
was  the  man  who  had  gone  through  all  she  had 
just  been  hearing  about. 


The  Smith  from  Henriksberg      169 

He  had  driven  up  whilst  Liliecrona  and  she 
were  still  walking  outside,  just  when  the  shadows 
were  getting  so  dark  that  they  were  beginning 
to  speak  of  going  in,  and  the  sledge  passed  so 
quickly  that  they  had  not  been  able  to  see  who 
was  in  it.  Pastor  Liliecrona  had  thought  it  was 
his  brother  from  Henriksberg  come  at  last, 
whilst  Maia  Lisa  fancied  she  had  seen  the  dark 
smith  sitting  in  the  sledge  although  she  did  not 
say  so. 

But  she  was  right  enough  !  When  they  turned 
back  to  the  house  the  innkeeper  was  standing 
on  the  steps  and  told  them  that  a  man  had  come 
from  Henriksberg  with  a  message  that  the  fore- 
man could  not  meet  his  brother  in  Svanskog 
that  day.  He  had  the  letter  with  him  in  the 
stable  where  he  was  putting  up  his  horse,  if  the 
Pastor  would  like  to  see  him.  Pastor  Liliecrona 
went  down  to  the  stable  and  Maia  Lisa  joined 
her  Aunt  in  the  great  living-room.  She  was 
already  sitting  there  with  her  maids  in  front 
of  the  great  log-fire,  busy  with  her  spinning. 
Maia  Lisa  sat  down  at  her  aunt's  side  and  handed 
her  the  rolags.  The  master  and  men  came  in 
almost  directly  afterwards  with  their  wood- 
work and  joined  the  circle  round  the  fire. 
Last  of  all,  in  came  Pastor  Liliecrona  and 
the  smith  with  him.  They  were  going  on  to 
Henriksberg  that  evening,  but  not  until  the 
horse  had  had  a  rest.  The  Pastor  chose  a 
place  as  near  Maia  Lisa  as  possible,  but  the 
smith  sat  down  where  the  shadows  lay  darkest, 
as  far  away  as  he  could.  And  it  was  a  con- 
tinual buzz  of  gossip,  joking  and  telling  of 


170  Liliecrona's  Home 

tales  until  Fru  Margreta  turned  to  the  smith 
and  asked  if  he  would  not  play  them  a  tune  or 
two.  She  had  been  told  that  he  had  a  turn  for 
music.  He  had  not  needed  much  asking  either. 
The  master  lent  him  his  old  squeaking  fiddle, 
and  there  he  stood  fiddling  out  polkas  and  old 
dance  tunes  neither  better  nor  worse  than  any 
ordinary  peasant  player.  Maia  Lisa  could  not 
help  a  little  feeling  of  disappointment.  The 
reason,  no  doubt,  was  that  she  was  still  half 
spellbound  and  could  not  distinguish  between 
fact  and  fancy.  All  evening  her  thoughts  had 
been  busy  with  the  man  who  had  played  the 
death-dance  for  his  heart's  love,  and  she  saw 
only  him  in  the  shape  of  the  smith.  She  had 
certainly  expected  that  he,  too,  would  have 
had  a  magic  in  his  bow,  strong  and  terrible 
enough  to  play  mortals  to  their  death. 

In  spite  of  all,  however,  she  could  not  shake 
off  her  dream,  and  time  after  time  she  caught 
herself  looking  at  the  smith  and  wondering 
if  he  ever  thought  of  anyone  but  the  love  he 
had  lost.  The  smith  had  thrown  off  his  stiff 
close-fitting  peasant  coat  of  fur  that  he  might 
move  his  arms  more  freely,  and  now  in  one  of 
those  quick  stolen  glances  that  she  cast  at  him 
she  noticed  a  great,  bright  silver  coin  fastened 
to  the  watch-chain  hanging  from  his  pocket. 
Maia  Lisa  gave  a  little  start.  Was  that  the  silver 
thaler  she  had  sent  him  ?  Smiths  were  always 
so  poor.  How  did  he  manage  to  possess  a 
watch  ?  Had  the  foreman  given  it  to  him  by 
any  chance  ?  And  even  if  he  had,  whatever 
had  put  it  into  his  head  to  go  about  with  a  silver 


The  Smith  from  Henriksberg      171 

thaler  hanging  to  no  purpose  at  the  end  of  his 
watch-chain  ?  Of  course,  he  was  not  a 

She  was  amazed  at  herself  that  she  kept  her 
seat  and  did  not  jump  up  and  cry  out  when,  in 
a  flash,  she  understood  the  whole  matter. 

Of  course,  it  was  Sven  Liliecrona  standing 
there  and  no  other;  the  very  man  who  had 
played  his  heart's  love  to  her  death.  In  a 
single  moment  she  was  so  sure  of  this  that  she 
could  have  found  it  in  her  heart  to  go  up  to  him 
and  beg  him  to  keep  up  the  disguise  no  longer. 
She  knew  who  he  was.  Why  he  had  come  to 
Lobyn  as  a  simple  peasant  a  couple  of  weeks 
ago  she  could  not  imagine.  Perhaps  he  had 
put  on  the  dress  as  the  most  convenient  when 
he  was  going  to  peasant  houses.  And  when 
no  one  had  recognised  him  but  taken  him  for 
a  smith  he  had  not  undeceived  them.  Perhaps 
he  had  not  liked  to  say  who  he  was  when  he 
arrived  in  the  very  middle  of  the  wedding. 

She  left  off  picking  up  the  rolags  and  covered 
her  eyes  with  her  hands.  Why  had  he  come 
in  disguise  again  to-day  ?  She  did  not  need 
to  puzzle  very  long  over  this ;  in  a  moment 
everything  was  clear.  This  time  he  had  a  clear 
purpose  in  view,  he  wanted  her  and  his 
brother  .  .  . 

It  was  strange  and  yet  so  pleasant  to  feel 
that  he  meant  them  to  have  a  chance  of  seeing 
and  talking  to  one  another.  No  doubt  it  was 
after  he  had  got  the  silver  thaler  from  her 
yesterday  evening  that  he  had  sent  a  speedy 
messenger  ski-ing  over  the  snow  to  entice  his 
brother  down  to  Svanskog.  And  he  had  let 


172  Liliecrona's  Home 

him  wait  all  day  for  him,  and  when  he  did  come 
late  in  the  evening  he  had  come  as  a  smith.  He 
had  no  wish  to  show  himself.  She  was  not  to 
think  of  anyone  else  but  his  brother.  And 
there  he  stood  playing  peasant  polkas  in  peasant 
style  to  amuse  peasant  folk  !  He  had,  indeed, 
once  said  that  he  would  never  use  a  bow  again, 
but  no  doubt  he  did  not  look  upon  this  as  violin 
playing. 

And  it  was  not  her  brain  that  was  telling 
her  all  this.  She  felt  she  could  read  his  inmost 
thoughts  and  she  scarcely  knew  whether  to 
smile  or  weep  at  what  she  read.  One  thing  was 
certain,  that  he  did  not  dislike  her  since  he  had 
brought  about  this  meeting  between  her  and 
his  brother.  Or  had  he  only  been  sorry  for  her 
because  she  had  such  a  hard  life  at  home  ?  He 
had  wanted  to  get  a  wise  kind  friend  who  could 
take  her  away  from  every  hardship. 

Ay,  he  had  a  great  sorrow  himself  that  he 
could  never  get  away  from  !  His  love  was  dead 
and  he  would  never  forget  her.  Maia  Lisa  for 
him  was  only  a  poor  girl  whom  he  had  found 
sitting  crying  in  the  chimney-corner  and  whom 
he  wanted  to  help  to  honour  and  happiness. 
She  was  obliged  to  lift  her  head  and  look  at  the 
others,  and  it  was  all  she  could  do  to  keep  back 
her  tears  when  she  thought  how  he  asked 
nothing  of  life  for  himself. 

But  just  as  she  lifted  her  eyes  and  when  lost 
in  thoughts  and  dreams  both  of  sorrow  and  joy 
she  was  far,  far  away  from  her  everyday  trials, 
the  latch  was  pulled  once  more  and  someone 
put  in  her  head. 


The  Smith  from  Henriksberg      173 

She  stared  at  the  new-comer  as  at  a  stranger 
and  went  not  a  step  to  meet  her.  Her  Aunt 
pushed  back  her  spinning-wheel  and  got  up, 
but  Maia  Lisa  sat  motionless,  still  lost  in 
dreams.  She  scarcely  knew  who  the  stranger 
was  even  when  she  heard  a  hoarse  voice  say 
that  she  had  come  with  Long-Bengt  to  fetch 
Maia  Lisa  home,  nor  when  Fru  Margreta  an- 
swered that  surely  the  Pastor's  wife  was  not 
in  too  great  a  hurry  to  take  off  her  coat  and  have 
a  little  supper  before  she  went  home  again. 


CHAPTER    XII 

ENSIGN    ORNECLOU 

r  I  ^HE  new  mistress  of  Lovdala  Parsonage 
L  had  a  habit  of  sending  messages  and  small 
commissions  by  anyone,  no  matter  who  it  might 
be.  Whether  the  passer-by  was  peasant  or  not, 
she  used  to  stand  on  the  kitchen  steps  and  wave 
and  call  until  he  stopped.  Then  it  fell  to  the 
lot  of  either  Maia  Lisa  or  Little-Maid  to  rush 
down  the  road  and  beg  the  travellers  to  be  good 
enough  to  take  with  them  a  tub  of  butter  that 
Fru  Raklitz  wanted  to  sell  to  the  Captain  at 
Berga  or  to  return  a  weaving-reed  that  she  had 
borrowed  from  old  Fru  Moreus.  Sometimes 
she  contrived  to  ask  a  favour  which  was  both 
tiresome  and  difficult,  so  that  soon  people  were 
really  afraid  to  pass  Lovdala.  It  wasn't  pleasant 
to  say  "no"  to  the  Pastor's  wife,  and  yet 
quite  impossible  to  slip  past  without  being  seen. 

However  it  might  be,  she  certainly  had  an  un- 
usual talent  for  getting  folk  to  run  her  errands. 

She  was  even  able  to  press  such  a  good-for- 
nothing  dandy  as  Orneclou  into  her  service. 
There  had  not  seemed  much  prospect  of  any 
friendship  between  the  Ensign  and  the  Pastor's 
wife  when  he  visited  Lovdala  in  the  last  week 
of  January,  the  time  when  he  was  in  the  habit 

174 


Ensign  Orneclou  175 

of  coming  for  a  week  or  a  fortnight.  But  Fru 
Raklitz  said  as  soon  as  he  came  that  she  would 
see  the  lazy-bones  did  not  stay  there  long.  She 
had  just  got  the  work  in  full  swing  again  after 
all  the  Christmas  festivities,  and  she  wasn't 
going  to  harbour  any  visitor  who  needed  wait- 
ing on. 

And  then,  too,  it  was  not  as  if  he  came  by 
himself,  for  poor  as  he  was,  he  always  drove  his 
own  sledge,  and  the  horse  needed  food  and 
service  no  less  than  his  master.  Fru  Raklitz 
did  all  she  could  to  make  him  uncomfortable.  To 
begin  with,  she  told  the  housemaid  to  carry  his 
heavy  bag  where  he  kept  his  wigs  and  his  curling 
tongs  up  to  the  poorest  spare  room.  Orneclou 
was  accustomed  to  the  best;  where  there  was 
a  fine  curtained  bed  with  a  feather  bolster  and 
soft  down  pillows,  but  he  had  never  looked  so 
pleased  with  that  as  he  did  now  when  he  was 
shown  into  the  other. 

"  If  I  haven't  always  wanted  to  sleep  here  !  " 
he  said.  This  was  the  room  they  called  the 
"  night  quarters,"  for  there  anyone  who  came 
asking  for  a  night's  lodging  got  a  bed,  no  matter 
who  it  was.  Here  he  could  be  nearly  certain  of 
having  a  companion  every  night,  and  he  slept 
so  badly  that  he  really  needed  someone  to  talk 
to.  Besides,  it  was  rather  oppressive  in  the 
great  four-poster  in  the  other  room.  He  would 
much  rather  lie  on  this  narrow  straw  mattress. 
And  best  of  all  there  was  neither  fireplace  nor 
stove,  but  the  room  was  warmed  from  the  great 
kitchen  chimney  running  up  the  wall  and  half 
filling  the  room.  Just  think — no  fumes,  no 


176  Liliecrona's  Home 

smoke,  but  a  comfortable,  even  temperature 
day  and  night ! 

And  so  he  went  on  as  long  as  the  housemaid 
was  in  the  room.  But  no  one  can  tell  what  he 
did  when  she  had  gone.  It  was  a  cold  day  and 
none  too  warm  in  the  unheated  room  where  he 
had  to  change  his  clothes  and  make  himself 
smart.  But  his  cheeks  had  such  rosy  tints  and 
his  eyebrows  were  so  delicately  pencilled  when 
he  came  to  midday  dinner  that  no  one  would 
have  dreamt  that  he  had  done  the  whole  opera- 
tion with  fingers  numb  with  cold.  The  Pastor's 
wife  knew  well  enough  that  there  never  was 
a  bigger  gourmand  than  Orneclou,  and  that  not 
only  did  he  want  good  food,  but  he  liked  to  eat 
it  in  a  grand  room  served  on  fine  damask  and 
shining  silver.  She  knew,  too,  that  he  had 
before  always  dined  in  the  best  room,  and  that 
they  had  made  things  as  festive  for  him  as 
possible;  but  now,  when  she  wished  to  put 
a  speedy  end  to  his  visit,  she  set  the  dinner  in 
the  kitchen  parlour  in  very  homely  fashion,  and 
offered  nothing  more  than  black  puddings  and 
cabbage  soup. 

Orneclou  was  in  his  most  amiable  mood  and 
sat  all  dinner-time  complimenting  the  Pastor 
on  his  cleverness  in  marrying  again.  Did  he 
remember  what  a  life  the  old  rural  dean  of 
Sjoskoga  had  had  when  he  had  been  left  a 
widower  for  so  many  years  ?  When  the  En- 
sign had  last  called  on  him  the  dining-room  had 
not  been  scoured  and  they  had  had  to  dine  in  one 
of  the  bedrooms.  There  wasn't  a  clean  table- 
cloth in  the  house,  but  stains  on  every  one,  and 


Ensign  Orneclou  177 

the  maids  were  too  idle  to  cook  anything  but 
cabbage  soup,  which  was  made  on  Sunday 
and  came  back  day  after  day — and  even  that 
they  had  to  be  thankful  to  get.  But  his  dear 
old  friend  in  Lovdala  had  contrived  to  get  some- 
thing very  different.  It  was  no  easy  matter  to 
find  such  a  good  housekeeper  as  his  wife.  He 
had  heard  such  accounts  of  her  skill  that  he  had 
wondered  very  much  what  delicacies  he  would 
taste  on  his  next  visit  to  the  Parsonage.  And 
not  only  that,  but  what  an  advantage  for  Maia 
Lisa  to  learn  how  a  table  ought  to  be  laid  and 
a  dinner  served  from  someone  who  knew 
exactly  how  these  things  were  done  in  the  best 
society. 

Fine  gentleman  Orneclou  certainly  had  a 
special  gift  for  saying  nasty  things,  and  no 
doubt  they  did  their  work,  but  Anna  Maria 
Raklitz  was  not  a  woman  to  be  turned  from  her 
purpose  by  a  couple  of  sharp  words,  so  she 
said  in  her  harsh  voice  :  "If  Ensign  Orneclou 
was  not  comfortable  in  the  widower's  house,  I 
suppose  he  could  have  left  and  gone  his 
way." 

Then  Orneclou  saw  that  there  would  be  no 
dining  in  the  best  parlour  nor  sleeping  in  the 
proper  bedroom  unless  he  chose  another  plan 
of  attack.  He  would,  however,  have  submitted 
if  there  had  not  been  one  other  reason  as  well 
for  feeling  injured.  It  was  remarkable  that  a 
woman  should  want  to  drive  him  away.  That 
had  never  happened  to  him  before,  and  he 
couldn't  get  over  it.  Certainly  he  was  a  good 
bit  on  the  wrong  side  of  forty,  but  all  the  same 

N 


178  Liliecrona's  Home 

he  was  a  handsome  man,  and  no  woman 
had  ever  yet  been  able  to  withstand  his 
charms. 

This  gave  the  Ensign  pause.  For  an  hour 
or  two  he  sat  playing  chess  with  the  Pastor, 
but  when  the  latter  went  out  in  the  dusk 
to  talk  over  farm  matters  with  Long-Bengt, 
the  Ensign  went  into  the  sitting-room  with  the 
intention  of  chatting  to  the  Pastor's  wife. 
She  was  sitting  bolt  upright  by  the  window, 
making  use  of  what  little  light  was  left  to  finish 
mending  a  pair  of  stockings.  So  Orneclou 
began  somewhat  cautiously  to  explain  that  he 
felt  he  was  growing  old  and  with  increasing 
years  came  more  wisdom  than  in  youth.  Young 
girls  were,  one  and  all,  unstable  and  frivolous, 
but  now  that  he  had  determined  to  give  up  a 
butterfly  existence  he  wondered  if  Cousin — as 
an  old  friend  of  her  husband's  he  hoped  he 
might  call  her  Cousin — knew  any  somewhat 
older  lady — not  too  old,  of  course,  but  well  on 
in  the  twenties — who  was  both  domesticated 
and  discreet  and  might  be  willing  to  take  a  poor 
man  like  himself. 

The  Pastor's  wife  never  stirred.  In  the  dim 
light,  it  was  not  easy  to  see  the  expression  on  her 
face,  but  Orneclou  fancied  a  slight  smile  passed 
over  her  thin  lips.  Very  likely  she  was  sitting 
there  making  a  fool  of  him.  What  a  terrible 
creature  Lyselius  had  married  to  be  sure  !  Why, 
as  a  rule,  there  was  no  surer  way  to  an  elderly 
lady's  heart  than  to  ask  her  to  help  in  a  little 
match-making.  Orneclou  had  never  in  his  life 
talked  to  a  woman  about  anything  but  love  or 


Ensign  Orneclou  179 

marriage,  and  not  a  word  could  he  say  on  any 
other  subject.  So  he  began  again  with  the  same 
thing,  only  now  he  directly  contradicted  what  he 
had  said  before. 

"I  see  plainly,  Cousin,"  he  went  on,  "  that 
you  have  heard  so  much  about  me  that  you 
do  not  believe  I  should  be  content  with  a  wife 
no  longer  beautiful  nor  young  either.  No 
doubt  you  think  I  should  like  her  to  be  sensible 
and  clever,  and  have  these  other  qualities  as 
well.  And  I  think  that  Maia  Lisa  Lyselius, 

since  Cousin  has  taken  her  training  in  hand " 

Orneclou  paused  discreetly  to  see  if  he  might 
venture  farther  on  the  same  road  or  if  he  was 
only  on  a  wild-goose  chase.  The  twilight  grew 
darker  and  darker,  so  that  it  was  more  and  more 
difficult  to  see  the  expression  on  the  face  of  his 
uncommunicative  listener,  but  he  almost  fancied 
that  she  was  slyly  smiling  to  herself. 

"  Of  course,  the  idea  is  for  Maia  Lisa  to  marry 
a  pastor,  and  live  and  rule  here  in  Lovdala/' 
continued  Orneclou ;  "  and  there  is,  of  course, 
a  good  deal  to  be  said  for  such  a  plan.  Lyselius 
will  manage  to  choose  for  her  some  fine,  capable 
man  who  can  do  something  besides  stand  in  a 
pulpit,  and  can  cultivate  land  as  well  as  he  can 
himself.  Now  such  a  husband  as  myself  would 
need  a  helping  hand  at  every  turn  from  his 
mother-in-law,  which  might  perhaps  be  very 
troublesome.  No  doubt,  Cousin,  you  have 
arranged  matters  so  that  when  you  are  left  a 
widow — and  between  ourselves  it  is  remarkable 
how  Lyselius  has  failed  the  last  year — you  may 
be  able  to  have  a  room  for  yourself  like  Fru 


180  Liliecrona's  Home 

Beata  Spaak  and  not  have  to  trouble  about 
anything/' 

The  Pastor's  wife  sat  bolt  upright,  drawing 
her  needle  in  and  out.  But  now  as  she  turned 
to  the  window  to  see  better,  he  noticed  she  was 
laughing  outright. 

Orneclou  began  to  think  that  nothing  in  the 
world  would  have  any  effect  on  her,  so  he  got 
up  to  go  to  his  room  to  curl  his  wig  or  freshen  up 
his  shirt  frill  as  was  his  custom  when  he  was 
annoyed.  But  now  the  Pastor's  wife  turned  and 
asked  him  :  "  Ensign,  you  have  been  about 
everywhere,  do  you  happen  to  know  a  certain 
Liliecrona,  pastor  of  Finnerud  ?  " 

The  Ensign  started.  It  seemed  almost  as 
though  his  words  about  a  son-in-law  had  had 
some  effect.  Perhaps  there  had  been  some 
thought  of  Liliecrona,  and  what  he  said  might 
have  raised  a  doubt  as  to  whether  he  were 
quite  suitable. 

"  Olle  Liliecrona,"  he  repeated.  "  Why,  of 
course  I  know  him.  I  have  stayed  with  him 
up  in  Finnerud.  He  is  a  splendid  fellow,  under- 
stands everything,  and  has  taught  the  men  and 
women  as  well  all  kinds  of  handicraft." 

"  I  wonder  if  he  really  has  an  eye  on  Maia 
Lisa,"  continued  the  Past  or 's  wife  very  candidly. 
"  We  hear  nothing  but  praise  of  him." 

Her  words  betokened  only  motherly  interest, 
but  Orneclou  fancied  he  heard  in  her  tone  a 
suggestion  that  she  would  have  no  objection  to 
hearing  a  little  scandal  about  this  new  lover. 

"  Of  course,  Cousin,"  replied  Orneclou,  "  you 
know  the  world  well  enough  to  make  allowance 


Ensign  Orneclou  181 

for  youth,  and  you  must  remember  what  a 
lonely  life  he  has  had  up  there  amongst  the 
Finns.  But  there  is,  of  course,  no  denying 
that  Liliecrona  has  had  some  sort  of  entangle- 
ment for  a  good  many  years  now.  Of  course,  it 
can  easily  be  put  right  without  Maia  Lisa's 
hearing  a  word  about  the  matter." 

The  darkness  had  at  last  compelled  the 
Pastor's  wife  to  put  down  her  darning ;  she 
did  not,  however,  light  a  candle  on  that  account, 
but  picked  up  her  knitting,  which  she  could 
manage  without  looking  at  it  at  all.  Her  pins 
worked  quickly  and  quietly,  but  when  Orneclou 
spoke  of  an  entanglement  they  fairly  rattled. 
Her  voice  sounded  completely  changed  as  she 
exclaimed :  "  What  do  you  say,  Ensign  ? 

Surely,  it  is  impossible  for  a  pastor ?  How 

can  the  bishop ?  " 

"  You  do  not  realise,  Cousin,  how  far  it  is 
to  Finnerud.  I  must  tell  you  I  don't  believe 
anyone  knows  a  thing  about  it,  not  even  his 
nearest  relatives.  It  was  by  the  merest  chance 
I  discovered  it,  and,  of  course,  I  have  never 
spoken  of  it  until  now,  when  I  see  that  my 
duty  to  a  tender  mother's  anxiety  compels  me 
to  disclose  my  doubts." 

Again  the  pins  rattled  violently.  "  But 
perhaps  there  is  no  truth  in  it  either,"  she 
returned,  "  everyone  is  slandered  sometimes." 

Orneclou  cleared  his  throat.  "  You  force  me 
to  tell  more  than  I  wanted.  But,  as  I  said,  I 
consider  it  my  duty  to  give  you  a  clear  insight 
into  the  business.  I  assure  you,  Cousin,  that 
I  had  no  idea  how  things  were  until  my  last 


1 82  Liliecrona's  Home 

visit  to  Liliecrona  shortly  before  Christmas. 
He  was  not  at  home  when  I  came,  but  his 
housekeeper  welcomed  me  and  begged  me  to 
wait  for  her  master.  Well,  it  was  a  long  time 
before  he  returned  and  in  the  meantime  I 
began  to  chat  with  the  woman.  In  her  way  she 
was  really  a  superb  creature,  not  Finnish  by 
extraction,  but  from  the  '  Swedish  Land/  as 
the  Finns  say,  and  wonderfully  capable  too. 
I  have  always  admired  the  unwearying  energy 
with  which  she  made  his  life  up  there  hi  the 
Finn  quarters  endurable  for  poor  Liliecrona. 
Well,  there  we  sat  and  talked.  You  understand, 
Cousin.  She  is  not  of  the  better  class,  really 
only  a  peasant  girl,  but  very  sensible  in  every- 
thing she  says.  We  had,  however,  not  exchanged 
many  words  before  I  noticed  that  there  was 
something  on  her  mind.  I  spoke  kindly — you 
know,  Cousin,  that  I  understand  women's 
ways — and  she  gained  confidence  in  me.  She 
asked  me  straight  out  what  I  thought  would 
happen  if  Liliecrona  got  the  fine  living.  Eight 
years  ago,  when  she  first  came  up  there,  he 
had  promised  to  marry  her  as  soon  as  he  got  a 
better  post.  But  she  was  afraid  now  that 
Sjoskoga  was  far  too  large.  Suppose  Liliecrona 
should  think  she  was  not  grand  enough  to  be 
the  wife  of  a  rural  dean  ! 

"  Now,  Cousin,  you  can  understand  that  she 
was  in  despair.  I  could  do  nothing  but  calm 
her,  as  best  I  might,  and  promise  to  try  to 
influence  Liliecrona  in  his  plans.  Next  day  I 
told  him  quite  plainly  that  I  had  discovered 
his  entanglement,  and  asked  him  why  he 


Ensign  Orneclou  183 

hadn't  married  at  once.  He  answered  quite 
frankly  that  he  had  been  too  poor.  If  he  had 
married  his  maid,  as  he  said,  then  she  would 
have  been  Fru  Liliecrona,  and  he  would  have 
had  to  keep  another  maid  to  wait  on  her. 
'  Then,  my  friend/  he  added,  '  you  may  be 
sure  she  would  have  stopped  milking  the  cows 
and  helping  Peterkin  with  the  field  work.  But 
marry  I  shall,  of  course,  as  soon  as  I  see  my 
way  clear. '  I  suggested  when  he  got  to  S j  oskoga. 
.  .  .  '  Oh,  Sj oskoga,'  he  replied,  '  I  am  not 
going  there.  I  mean  to  refuse  it/  ' 

Orneclou  stopped.  He  could  scarcely  see 
the  Pastor's  wife  in  the  darkness,  nor  could  he 
hear  her  pins  rattling  either.  He  felt  almost 
terrified.  Perhaps  after  all  he  had  made  a 
mistake,  or,  at  any  rate,  acted  very  unwisely. 

"  Now,  Cousin,  I  have  told  you  all  I  know," 
he  began  once  more,  "  and  I  must  beg  you  not 
to  attach  too  much  importance  to  it.  In  any 
case  there  is  not  a  more  promising  young 
pastor  in  the  whole  diocese  than  Liliecrona. 
Think  how,  with  all  his  talents,  he  has  sacrificed 
himself  for  those  poor  Finn  peasants  and  lived 
in  poverty  these  last  eleven  years.  I  must  say 
he  is  a  hero,  every  bit  as  much  as  that  Corsican 
people  are  making  such  a  fuss  about  just 
now." 

But  the  silence  continued.  Orneclou  grew 
more  and  more  gloomy.  He  was  beginning 
once  more  to  sing  Liliecrona's  praises  when  the 
Pastor's  wife  got  up  and  said  with  a  very 
different  voice :  "I  hear  Lyselius  coming  in. 
And  now,  Cousin  Orneclou,  you  must  go  and 


184  Liliecrona's  Home 

have  a  talk  with  him  instead  of  sitting  here  in 
the  dark  with  me.  He  is  only  too  glad  to  get 
such  an  old  friend  as  you  to  himself  for  a  little 
while." 

And  after  that  Fru  Raklitz  entirely  changed 
towards  Orneclou.  He  had  his  meals  in  the 
fine  dining-room,  his  bed  in  the  best  spare  room, 
and  such  delicacies  were  put  before  him  as 
not  even  the  Pastor  himself  had  ever  tasted. 
Nor  was  he  much  astonished.  Did  he  not  know 
of  old  that  no  woman  could  withstand  him 
when  he  took  so  much  trouble  as  he  had  done 
with  old  Raklitz  ?  Yet  it  did  strike  him  as  a 
little  strange  until  he  had  reasoned  out  that 
most  certainly  she  had  thought  over  his  offer 
and  intended  to  accept  him  as  a  son-in-law. 
Now  Orneclou  had  not  been  much  in  earnest 
with  his  proposal.  But,  after  all,  why  not  ? 
It  wouldn't  be  so  much  amiss  to  get  Maia  Lisa 
Lyselius.  And  that  he  could  get  her  was  as 
clear  as  the  day.  The  mother-in-law  was  so 
taken  with  him  that  she  didn't  know  how  to  do 
enough  for  him. 

But  before  he  bound  himself  for  good,  he 
thought  he  ought  to  make  a  tour  round  Varm- 
land  and  visit  all  the  good  old  places  whose 
hospitality  he  had  once  enjoyed.  Once  he 
was  married  and  had  a  wife  and  house  he  must, 
of  course,  stay  at  home.  He  certainly  could 
not  stay  at  Lovdala  this  time  so  long  as  he 
generally  did,  but  he  must  move  on  as  quickly 
as  possible,  only,  of  course,  that  he  might 
come  back  so  much  the  sooner.  When  he  ex- 
plained next  morning  that  he  must  go  he  could 


Ensign  Orneclou  185 

see  that  both  the  Pastor's  wife  and  daughter 
were  sorry.  Indeed,  they  wished  to  persuade 
him  to  stay,  but  he  stood  firm.  He  must 
without  fail  be  in  Karlstad  before  evening.  He 
did  not,  of  course,  say  in  so  many  words  that 
he  was  only  going  to  come  back  again  and  be 
master  of  the  house,  but  that  was  quite  under- 
stood !  The  Pastor's  wife,  who  was  generally 
accounted  a  woman  of  more  than  ordinary 
ability,  knew  well  enough  what  his  plans 
were.  He  felt  how  he  longed  to  be  back  even 
before  he  had  gone.  He  would  be  comfortable 
here  without  a  doubt. 

Just  as  he  was  preparing  to  put  on  his  furs 
the  Pastor's  wife  came  and  asked  if  he  could 
possibly  do  her  a  favour.  Her  ladyship  in 
Lokene  had  asked  her  to  sell  her  a  cock  and  she 
wondered  if  it  would  trouble  him  too  much  to 
take  it  with  him.  If  he  was  bound  for  Karlstad 
he  would  pass  Lokene  on  his  way. 

The  Ensign  said  "yes"  at  once,  and  said  it 
gladly  too,  for  not  only  was  he  pleased  to  do 
his  future  mother-in-law  a  favour,  but  he  was 
very  willing  to  have  an  excuse  for  looking  in  at 
Lokene  and  getting  a  meal  there. 

But  when  he  said  "yes"  he  certainly  had  no 
idea  that  it  was  a  live  cock  he  was  to  take  with 
him.  For  he  had  such  a  terribly  little  sledge, 
there  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  put  the  box 
with  the  cock  in  it  on  to  the  seat  and  take  his 
own  place  on  the  back  step.  However,  he 
put  a  good  face  on  it  to  the  end  ;  at  all  costs  he 
must  show  old  Raklitz  that  she  would  never 
get  a  more  polite  and  obliging  son-in-law  than 


1 86  Liliecrona's  Home 

he  was.  So  off  he  started  in  splendid  bright 
January  weather  with  the  sun  shining  like  the 
end  of  March  and  no  cold  to  speak  of.  He  felt 
quite  a  different  man  from  when  he  came 
yesterday.  Lovdala  and  Maia  Lisa  !  To  own 
and  rule  them  both  !  To  have  a  home  of  his 
own  where  he  could  receive  his  friend  if  he 
wished !  That,  indeed,  was  quite  another 
matter  than  going  from  house  to  house  all  the 
year  round  and  never  being  quite  sure  what 
sort  of  welcome  awaited  him. 

It  was  quick  travelling  along  the  good  road, 
and  Orneclou  was  soon  in  Lobyn.  Here  he 
met  an  old  peasant  with  a  cartload  of  straw, 
no  other  than  Biorn  Hindriksson  himself.  "  A 
rich  and  worthy  man  Biorn  Hindriksson,"  he 
said  to  himself  as  he  pulled  the  reins  to  stop  and 
have  a  word  with  him.  He  was  a  near  neigh- 
bour at  Lovdala,  and  since  Orneclou  was  soon 
to  be  master  there,  it  would  be  well  to  make  a 
friend  of  him. 

But  what  now  ?  Whatever  was  it  crowing  in 
his  ear  just  as  he  stopped  ?  He  all  but  fell 
off  the  narrow  step  in  his  fright,  for  he  had 
forgotten  all  about  the  cock.  His  horse  Fingal 
did  not  turn  a  hair.  He  had  been  through  so 
much  that  nothing  in  the  world  could  frighten 
him.  But  Biorn  Hindriksson's  Brownie  was 
not  so  hardened  to  surprises.  Off  he  tore  and 
tipped  the  whole  cartload  into  the  ditch. 

This  was  no  good  beginning  to  friendship, 
and  in  his  annoyance  Orneclou  cracked  his 
whip  over  Fingal's  back.  No  sooner  had  the 
sledge  started  than  the  cock  held  his  peace. 


Ensign  Orneclou  187 

Again  he  went  on  at  a  good  pace,  and  again 
his  thoughts  turned  to  Maia  Lisa.  She  was 
beautiful,  not  more  than  seventeen  years  old, 
and  the  owner  of  half  Lovdala.  A  piece  of 
good  luck  like  that  ought  to  fall  to  a  man  like 
himself  who  was  no  longer  in  his  first  youth  ! 

Again  there  was  someone  coming  along  the 
road,  this  time  a  gentleman  and  lady  on  horse- 
back. It  could  surely  be  no  other  than  the 
Countess  Dohna  out  for  a  ride  in  this  direction. 
A  fine  woman  this  dowager  Countess  of  Borg ! 
And  it  was  always  pleasant  to  meet  a  lady  who 
could  ride  so  well.  It  was  only  a  pity  she 
should  have  with  her  the  little  black-whiskered 
foreigner  whom  she  had  taken  under  her 
wing. 

Orneclou  stopped,  got  down  from  the  step 
and  stood  in  a  posture  of  admiration,  hat  in 
hand.  Then  the  cock  crew.  The  Countess 
tightened  her  reins  and  looked  round  in  sur- 
prise. Where  did  the  noise  come  from  ?  How 
could  a  cock  get  on  to  the  high-road  so  far 
from  any  dwelling  ?  Perhaps  she  might  never 
have  found  out  if  the  creature  hadn't  crowed 
again.  But  then  she  understood,  and,  like  the 
intriguing  piece  of  goods  she  was,  she  set  to 
work  to  talk  to  Orneclou  and  keep  him  standing 
still  on  the  high-road  for  a  full  three  minutes. 
And  on  the  cock  went,  crowing  between  every 
word  they  said  ! 

And  dandy  Orneclou  had  to  endure  this. 
The  finest  gentleman  in  Varmland  had  to  sub- 
mit to  be  made  ridiculous  in  this  way.  The 
Countess  sat  there  doing  nothing  but  talk  as 


1 88  Liliecrona's  Home 

if  she  never  heard  the  cock,  and  that  though 
every  other  word  was  drowned  in  a  shrill 
crow.  But  Orneclou  was  in  such  anguish  that 
the  cold  sweat  drops  stood  on  his  brow.  At 
last  he  could  stand  it  no  longer  but  jumped 
on  to  the  sledge  and  off  he  drove.  In  an  instant 
the  cock  stopped,  but  Orneclou  heard  instead 
the  Countess's  clear  rippling  laugh.  It  followed 
him  beyond  the  parish,  followed  him  to  the 
end  of  his  journey,  followed  him  all  through 
life,  for  he  could  never  forget  it. 

What  a  temptation  it  was  to  lift  the  lid  and 
let  the  cock  go,  but  he  thought  of  Maia  Lisa 
and  Lovdala  and  made  up  his  mind  to  endure. 
It  would  not  do  to  get  into  his  mother-in- 
law's  black  books,  and  once  past  Svartsjo 
Church  the  road  went  through  desolate  forest 
where  he  thought  he  would  meet  no  one. 

But  as  ill-luck  would  have  it,  the  weather 
was  too  fine  for  that.  Everyone  seemed  to 
be  seized  with  a  desire  to  choose  that  very  day 
for  a  long  drive.  So  it  was  not  long  before  the 
Ensign  chanced  to  meet  the  head  of  his  regiment. 
It  is  true,  Orneclou  had  long  since  left  the 
service,  but  still  he  prided  himself  on  such 
dignity  and  propriety  of  manner  as  beseems  a 
man  who  has  trodden  the  field  of  glory.  But 
just  as  he  drew  himself  up  for  a  stiff  military 
salute  the  cock  must  needs  crow  again.  It 
really  was  enough  to  drive  a  man  desperate  ! 
One  meeting  after  another  spoilt,  nothing  but 
misfortune  upon  misfortune  ! 

Last  of  all  far  away  on  the  Sundgard  hills  he 
met  the  new  owner  of  the  Biorn  ironworks, 


Ensign  Orneclou  189 

Melchior  Sinclaire.  That  was  the  last  straw,  the 
worst  luck  of  all,  for  people  had  nicknamed 
Sinclaire  "  The  Cock,"  because  he  had  such  a 
loud  voice,  and  was  so  perky  and  always  ready 
to  quarrel  and  fight.  Sinclaire  knew  of  his 
nickname,  and  did  not  particularly  care  for 
it ;  indeed,  it  was  as  much  as  anyone's  life 
was  worth  to  speak  of  hens  or  eggs  when  he 
was  anywhere  near.  In  his  distress  Orneclou 
decided  not  to  stop  and  speak,  but  to  drive 
past  Sinclaire  as  fast  as  Fingal's  legs  could  go. 
But  whatever  he  did  went  wrong  to-day. 
The  ironmaster  had  been  to  Karlstad  and 
bought  a  new  set  of  harness  bells,  whose  merry 
music  so  cheered  up  chanticleer  that  he  began 
to  crow  just  as  they  passed.  Orneclou  stood 
up,  flourished  his  whip  and  gave  Fingal  a  smart 
stroke  on  the  loins.  At  all  costs  he  must  get 
away  as  quickly  as  possible.  But  he  was  not 
to  get  off  so  easily.  Melchior  Sinclaire  was 
furious.  He  had  not  caught  sight  of  the  box 
with  the  cock  in  it,  but  he  had  recognised 
Orneclou  and  thought  he  had  crowed  as  he 
passed  just  on  purpose  to  annoy  him.  He 
whipped  up  his  horse  and  tore  after  Orneclou 
to  punish  him. 

The  Ensign  heard  him  coming  and  thought 
it  would  be  best  to  stop  and  explain.  But  once 
more  the  cock  awoke  the  echoes  with  his  shrill 
note,  and  Sinclaire,  thinking  it  was  Orneclou, 
grew  so  furious  that  he  roared  like  a  great  wild 
beast.  Orneclou  dared  not  wait  for  him,  but 
beat  a  retreat,  and  for  a  couple  of  minutes 
there  was  a  wild  race  over  the  Sundgard  hills. 


190  Liliecrona's  Home 

But  the  ironmaster  had  a  good  steed,  and 
Fingal  was  old  and  worn  out,  so  it  was  evident 
that  the  Ensign  would  soon  be  caught.  And 
when  he  looked  round  he  noticed  that  his 
enemy  was  brandishing  his  whip  as  high  as 
he  could  to  strike  him  over  the  head. 

Then  he  said  good-bye  to  all  his  hopes  of 
Maia  Lisa  and  Lovdala.  He  bent  forward, 
lifted  up  the  box  and  flung  it  straight  in  front 
of  Melchior  Sinclaire.  And  so  he  got  away, 
or  else  the  great  fellow  would  certainly  have 
killed  him,  for  he  was  not  the  man  to  listen 
to  excuses  or  explanations  when  he  was  angered. 

When  the  Ensign  reached  the  Ilberg  inn  he 
was  utterly  worn  out ;  in  fact,  he  thought  he 
would  never  get  over  this  drive  of  his. 

He  never  showed  his  face  again  at  Lovdala, 
for  this  was  the  most  sickening  adventure  he 
had  ever  experienced  in  all  his  life.  To  own  and 
rule  indeed !  He  couldn't  bear  even  to  think 
of  it. 


CHAPTER    XIII 

THE    DAILY   ROUND 

YES,  the  daily  work  was  now  in  full  swing  at 
Lovdala,  and  every  morning  and  evening 
the  nine  spinning-wheels  in  the  kitchen  whirred 
and  hummed  as  loud  as  any  windmill.  And  in 
full  daylight  there  was  no  dawdling  either,  for 
the  time  had  to  be  used  for  sewing  and  weaving. 
For  a  while  it  almost  seemed  as  though  the 
Pastor's  wife  had  forgotten  that  Little-Maid 
was  in  the  house.  She  had  not  set  her  to  work 
nor  given  her  any  duties  except  to  sweep  the 
kitchen-parlour  and  to  keep  the  fire  mended. 
But  on  the  very  day  that  the  Ensign  went, 
Fru  Raklitz  came  to  the  kitchen  door  and 
beckoned  to  her  to  come  into  the  best  room. 
Little-Maid  got  up  at  once,  but  she  was  terrified, 
almost  beyond  words,  of  sitting  alone  with  her 
mistress.  Her  feeling  towards  her  was  no  or- 
dinary dislike,  but  something  that  sent  cold 
shudders  down  her  back  every  time  she  set 
eyes  on  her. 

Little-Maid  had  never  before  been  so  terrified 
of  any  human  being,  and  she  had  her  own 
ideas  as  to  the  reason  of  it  all.  For  she  could 
never  forget  that  there  was  something  peculiar 
about  the  Pastor's  wife.  No  one  else  had  snow- 

191 


192  Liliecrona's  Home 

white  hair  with  such  a  young  face,  and  it  was 
not  natural  either  for  any  female  creature  to 
speak  with  a  voice  as  loud  as  a  roaring  torrent, 
nor  would  any  ordinary  mortal  be  capable  of 
causing  so  much  annoyance  and  unhappiness. 
She  thought  pretty  often,  too,  of  what  her 
mother  had  told  her  of  the  Black  Lake  and  the 
three  things  that  stayed  behind  when  the  water 
dried  up.  Mamsell  Maia  Lisa  wouldn't  hear 
a  word  of  it,  but  Little-Maid  knew  well  enough 
what  the  third  thing  was,  and  that  they  had 
had  to  do  with  it  in  Lovdala  more  than  once 
already. 

If  the  Pastor's  daughter  would  not  talk  of  it, 
there  were  others  in  the  house  who  could  and 
would.  Little-Maid  only  had  to  creep  away 
of  an  evening  to  the  servants'  room  where 
Long-Bengt  and  Old  Bengta,  his  mother,  and 
Merry  Maia,  his  wife,  sat  gossiping  round  the 
fire.  Then  Old  Bengta  used  to  tell  how  the 
"  water-spirit  "  of  Black  Lake  felt  homeless 
when  everything  had  dried  up,  for  it  was  not 
to  be  expected  that  such  a  fine  lady  would  be 
content  with  the  poor  little  Black  Lake  stream 
that  trickled  away  from  the  old  bed  of  the  waters, 
and  that  she  tried  at  once  to  sneak  into  one  or 
other  of  the  houses  round.  And  she  had 
managed  to  creep  in  once  or  twice,  but  in 
other  places  they  had  guessed  who  she  was 
and  made  a  clean  sweep  of  her  before  she 
succeeded  in  doing  any  mischief. 

Merry  Maia  told  a  tale  of  a  son  of  Hen- 
Ola  vius  the  first  Svartsjo  pastor,  who  one 
spring  night  had  gone  down  to  the  Black  Lake 


The  Daily  Round  193 

brook  and  been  drowned.  It  was  as  plain  as 
daylight  that  the  "  water-spirit  "  had  bewitched 
him,  or  else  he  could  not  possibly  have  come  to 
grief  in  a  drop  of  water  like  that. 

Long-Bengt  used  to  talk  of  the  morning  when 
he  and  the  Vetter-lads  had  been  mowing  hay 
on  the  South  field.  The  two  boys  and  he  had 
seen  in  a  second  who  it  was  coming  out  of  the 
grass.  And  all  her  clothes  dripping  wet !  Why, 
that  surely  was  sign  enough  of  what  sort  of 
creature  she  might  be  !  And  her  eyes,  too, 
as  wild  as  any  troll's  !  None  of  the  three  had 
the  slightest  doubt  as  to  who  the  present  wife 
of  the  Svartsjo  Pastor  really  was,  and  all  three 
were  equally  sure  that  they  would  never  see 
the  last  of  her  until  she  had  ruined  the  Par- 
sonage and  all  in  it. 

Little-Maid  shared  their  belief,  at  any  rate, 
in  the  evenings  or  when  it  was  dark.  In  day- 
light it  was  harder  to  think  that  the  homeless 
"water-spirit"  of  Svartsjo  was  really  living 
at  Lovdala,  and  busying  herself  with  spinning 
and  weaving.  But  even  then  her  doubts  were 
strong  enough  to  make  Little-Maid  shudder 
every  time  she  saw  her. 

However,  there  was  no  help  for  it ;  when  the 
Pastor's  wife  came  to  the  kitchen  door  she 
had  to  follow  her  through  the  next  room, 
where  Mamsell  Maia  Lisa  sat  embroidering  a 
sheet,  into  the  best  parlour,  a  beautiful,  large 
room,  furnished  in  birchwood  with  gilt  inlays 
and  blue  striped  carpets  on  the  floor.  There 
were  two  windows  in  the  room  ;  in  one  stood  a 
tall  green  lily,  in  the  other  a  little  work-table. 


194  Liliecrona's  Home 

The  lid  was  open,  and  she  could  see  the  many 
little  compartments  where  lay  reels  of  thread, 
balls  of  silk,  wax  and  needle-book,  sampler  and 
rolls  of  ribbon,  finger -shields,  crochet -hooks, 
and  many  another  handy  little  thing.  The 
Pastor's  wife  showed  her  everything  there  was 
and  made  her  guess  what  they  were  used  for. 
Indeed,  she  was  so  pleasant  with  her  that  she 
even  tried  to  laugh  when  the  child  guessed 
wrong,  although  the  corners  of  her  mouth  looked 
as  if  they  rebelled  against  such  unusual  exercise. 
The  more  friendly  she  became,  the  more  firmly 
Little-Maid  set  her  mouth,  and  the  more  watch- 
ful grew  her  bright  eyes.  Suppose  the  Pastor's 
wife  was  thinking  of  coaxing  her  into  saying 
something  that  might  be  dangerous  for  Mamsell 
Maia  Lisa  ? 

But  there  did  not  seem  to  be  any  evil  design 
this  time.  The  Pastor's  wife  sat  down  at  the 
work-table  and  gave  Little-Maid  a  seat  at  her 
side.  She  was  to  learn  to  sew  now,  for  the 
Pastor's  wife  had  promised  her  mother  to  give 
her  a  good  training.  To  begin  with,  she  showed 
her  how  to  set  about  threading  a  needle.  Of 
course,  that  is  generally  a  difficult  task  for 
small  fingers,  but  Little-Maid  passed  the  thread 
through  the  eye  at  her  very  first  attempt. 
The  Pastor's  wife  was  really  amazed  at  such 
quick  work.  If  she  could  manage  everything 
else  as  easily,  they  might  make  a  grand  sewer 
of  her  !  Then  the  Pastor's  wife  gave  her  a 
little  bit  of  material  to  practise  on,  and  showed 
her  how  to  make  a  knot  and  push  her  needle 
in  and  out  of  the  cloth.  Little-Maid  heard  her 


The  Daily  Round  195 

instructions  in  silence,  took  the  piece  of  stuff, 
held  it  over  her  first  finger  and  made  stitch  after 
stitch  as  though  there  was  nothing  difficult  in 
it  at  all.  Well,  to  be  sure  !  How  astonished 
Fru  Raklitz  was  !  She  had  never  seen  such  a 
thing  before.  But  Little-Maid's  gravity  could 
hold  out  no  longer  and  she  shook  with  laughter. 
At  last  the  Pastor's  wife  began  to  understand. 
Had  Little-Maid  learnt  to  sew  before  she  came 
to  Lovdala  ? 

"  No,"  she  answered,  "  not  a  stitch  before 
I  came  here." 

"  Well,  then,  someone  here  must  have  taught 
you — Mamsell  Maia  Lisa  perhaps  ?  ' 

Little-Maid  was  terrified  at  the  mere  mention 
of  Mamsell  Maia  Lisa,  and  hastened  to  say 
that  Fru  Beata  in  the  brewhouse-room  had 
shown  her  how.  "  How  glad  I  am  to  hear  that," 
said  the  Pastor's  wife.  "  Who  would  have 
thought  she  could  sew  with  such  hands  as 
hers  ?  " 

"Sew  indeed,"  exclaimed  Little-Maid;  "why, 
no  one  in  the  house  can  sew  like  Fru  Beata." 

"Then  I'll  tell  you  what  we'll  do,"  an- 
swered Fru  Raklitz.  "  We'll  go  down  now  to 
Fru  Beata  and  thank  her  for  teaching  you  so 
well." 

And  off  she  started  with  Little-Maid,  but  she 
did  not  take  the  direct  road  to  the  brewhouse 
wing,  but  went  roundabout,  away  past  the 
stable  and  dairy.  Fru  Beata  used  to  sit  all 
day  long  at  a  window  from  which  she  could  see 
everything  coming  from  the  main  building, 
but  she  had  no  view  on  the  dairy  side.  When 


196  Liliecrona's  Home 

the  Pastor's  wife  and  Little-Maid  had  reached 
the  steep  stairway  that  zigzagged  up  the  out- 
side wall,  Fru  Raklitz  asked  her  to  run  on  in 
front.  It  was  so  easy  for  young  legs,  and  she 
herself  would  manage  nicely  after  her.  So  on 
ran  Little-Maid  and  clattered  up  the  steps  so 
that  no  one  could  hear  that  anyone  else  was 
creeping  up  as  well. 

Fru  Beata  always  sat  with  her  hands  folded 
when  the  Pastor's  wife  came  to  see  her,  and 
always  used  to  say  how  hard  it  was  no  longer 
to  be  fit  for  any  work,  for  in  her  time  she  too 
had  been  a  fine  worker,  although  of  course 
not  so  capable  as  Anna  Maria  Raklitz.  No 
doubt  the  Pastor's  wife  had  been  sorry  for  her. 
How  long  the  day  must  be  for  anyone  com- 
pelled to  sit  and  not  able  to  do  a  hand's  turn 
in  all  the  world's  work  ! 

But  now,  as  the  Pastor's  wife  came  in,  Fru 
Beata  was  sitting  embroidering  a  sheet  so 
diligently  that  her  arm  rose  and  fell  as  quickly 
as  the  wings  of  a  bird  in  full  flight.  When  Fru 
Beata  caught  sight  of  the  Pastor's  wife  she 
made  a  movement  as  if  to  put  away  her  sewing. 
But  when  she  noticed  that  her  visitor  had 
already  seen  it  she  went  on  with  the  work. 
The  Pastor's  wife  came  up  to  her  and  was 
overjoyed  beyond  words  to  find  her  at  her 
work-table.  What  a  good  thing  her  gout  was 
so  much  better  that  she  could  work  again, 
and  might  she  see  what  she  was  doing,  for  she 
had  heard  that  Fru  Beata  was  such  a  beautiful 
sewer  that  her  stitches  were  as  regular  as  a 
row  of  pearls. 


The  Daily  Round  197 

4<  But  how  strange,"  continued  the  Pastor's 
wife,  as  she  bent  lower  and  lower  over  the  piece 
of  work.  "  I  seem  to  know  this  sheet.  Surely, 
it  is  one  of  the  pair  that  I  gave  Maia  Lisa  to-day 
to  finish  before  to-morrow.  Perhaps  her  Grand- 
mother is  kind  enough  to  help  her  with  one  of 
them.  Well,  I  have  no  objection  to  that ; 
oh,  dear,  no,  not  the  least,  but  I  think  you 
ought  to  let  me  know,  so  that  I  may  give  Maia 
Lisa  enough  to  do.  For  if  she  only  has  to 
embroider  one  sheet  instead  of  two  she  will 
indeed  lead  a  life  of  idleness." 

Fru  Beata  sat  with  the  work  in  her  hand,  quite 
unable  to  answer,  for  her  lower  jaw,  and  indeed 
her  whole  head,  was  trembling  as  though  some- 
one were  standing  behind  her  chair  shaking  her. 
The  Pastor's  wife  turned  to  go.  She  could  see 
Grandmother  was  busy,  so  she  would  not  hinder 
her  any  longer  ;  no  doubt  she  did  not  need 
company  so  much  now  when  she  was  well 
enough  to  work.  Fru  Beata  stammered  out 
something  about  excessive  work  for  young 
folk  spoiling  both  life  and  health. 

"  You  know  perfectly  well  yourself  that 
Maia  Lisa  has  not  too  much  to  do  to  find 
strength  to  sit  up  reading  half  the  night.  I  do 
not  think  young  people  take  any  harm  from 
having  to  work,  but  what  does  harm  them  is 
to  creep  behind  backs,  shuffle  out  of  duties,  and 
learn  to  deceive." 

With  this,  off  Raklitz  went,  and  Fru  Beata 
could  not  say  a  word  of  defence  before  the  door 
shut  behind  her.  But  the  stairway  she  had 
to  go  down  was  steep  and  slippery,  so  that 


198  Liliecrona's  Home 

there  was  no  making  haste.  And  meantime 
Fru  Beata  had  managed  to  regain  her  self- 
control,  and  just  as  Fru  Anna  Maria  reached 
the  lowest  step,  the  old  lady  opened  the  door 
and  "  Stepmother  ! "  she  cried  after  her,  in  a 
voice  loud  enough  to  be  heard  all  over  the 
house  and  garden.  Nor  did  she  wait  for  any 
answer,  but  went  straight  back  into  her  room 
and  shot  the  bolts  so  that  she  should  not  be 
taken  by  surprise  again. 

The  Pastor's  wife  did  not  seem  in  the  least 
concerned  as  to  what  Fru  Beata  had  called  out. 
Indeed,  she  was  in  excellent  spirits,  and  as  she 
went  up  the  slope  to  the  main  building  she  told 
Little-Maid  very  calmly  to  go  into  the  best 
parlour  and  set  to  her  sewing.  She  herself 
would  come  directly  she  had  said  a  few  words 
to  Mamsell  Maia  Lisa.  Little-Maid  pressed 
her  lips  firmly  together  and,  though  she  an- 
swered never  a  word,  she  had  much  the  same 
look  about  her  as  that  Christmas  Day  when 
she  had  a  tussle  with  the  storm-wind.  When 
they  reached  the  porch  she  did  not  go  into  the 
best  parlour,  as  she  had  been  told,  but  turned 
off  towards  the  kitchen  door.  The  Pastor's 
wife  asked  where  she  was  off  to.  Had  she  not 
heard  that  she  was  to  go  on  with  her  sewing  ? 
Little-Maid  answered  in  a  low  voice  that  it 
was  no  longer  necessary. 

"  Why  not  necessary  ?  Do  you  think  you 
are  so  clever  already  that  you  have  nothing 
more  to  learn  ?  ' 

No,  Little-Maid  had  not  thought  that.  But 
she  did  not  need  to  learn  any  more  than  she 


The  Daily  Round  199 

knew  already,  because  she  was  going  back 
home  to  Koltorp.  And  she  stepped  up  to  the 
Pastor's  wife  with  outstretched  hand.  She 
would  be  glad  to  thank  her  and  say  good-bye 
at  the  same  time. 

"  But,  my  dear  child,"  said  Fru  Raklitz, 
"  I  really  don't  understand.  Why  have  you 
got  to  leave  ?  " 

Little-Maid  stepped  back  as  if  to  be  out  of 
reach  whilst  she  was  giving  her  explanation. 
"  Mother  was  nursemaid  at  Lovdala  and  loves 
the  Pastor's  daughter.  And  when  mother  was 
here  last  Christmas  she  told  me  that  if  Mamsell 
Maia  Lisa  had  anything  more  to  put  up  with 
on  my  account,  I  was  not  to  stop,  but  go  straight 
home." 

When  Little-Maid  had  said  this  she  drew 
back  along  the  wall  until  she  reached  the 
corner  by  the  kitchen  door,  and  there  she 
stood  and  waited  for  whatever  might  come. 
The  red  spots  flared  out  on  Raklitz's  cheeks 
and  she  stepped  up  to  Little-Maid  with  up- 
lifted hand.  Little-Maid  crouched  down  with 
a  cold  glitter  in  her  bright  eyes.  She  knew  she 
was  going  to  be  beaten,  but  she  was  so  filled 
with  hatred  that  she  did  not  feel  afraid,  but 
was,  instead,  almost  pleased  that  they  had  come 
to  open  strife.  But  something  happened  now 
that  she  would  never  have  dreamt  of.  The 
Pastor's  wife  did  not  even  box  her  ears,  but 
restrained  herself  at  the  last  moment  and  said, 
with  a  forced  smile  : 

"  My  dear  child,  you  look  like  a  cat  getting 
ready  to  fly  at  a  dog.  But  you  needn't  worry. 


2oo  Liliecrona's  Home 

I  am  not  going  to  beat  you  for  being  faithful 
to  those  you  serve.  That  is  just  what  I  like, 
and  I  promise  you  Maia  Lisa  shall  not  hear  a 
word  of  what  I  have  found  out  to-day.  And 
now  we  will  both  go  into  the  best  parlour  and 
never  give  it  another  thought." 

Little-Maid  felt  quite  dizzy.  There  was 
something  under  all  this  that  she  did  not  under- 
stand. But  she  was  so  glad  to  be  able  to  stay 
at  the  Parsonage  that  she  did  not  set  her  wits 
to  work  to  guess  the  riddle.  When  they  were 
at  the  work-table,  however,  there  was  no  sewing 
done,  for  the  Pastor's  wife  opened  a  drawer 
that  was  hidden  under  all  the  others  and  took 
out  first  an  A  B  C  book  and  then  paper,  a  quill 
pen  and  a  bottle  of  ink.  Little-Maid  thought 
she  was  going  to  examine  her  in  reading  and 
writing.  That  was  not  her  object,  however, 
but  she  began  to  tell  how  when  she  was  young 
she  was  so  busy  helping  her  mother  with  the 
smaller  children  that  she  had  never  been  able 
to  learn  to  read  and  write.  But  since  she  had 
married  the  Pastor  she  had  found  it  very 
troublesome  not  to  know  how ;  so  now  would 
Little-Maid  be  her  schoolmistress  ?  That  had 
been  in  her  mind  when  she  had  got  her  to  come 
to  Lovdala  at  Christmas,  but  they  had  not  had 
any  spare  time  till  now.  Little-Maid  was 
delighted,  and  at  once  said  she  would  help  her 
as  much  as  she  could.  So  the  matter  was 
settled,  and  the  Pastor's  wife  begged  Little- 
Maid  not  to  tell  anyone  that  she  was  teaching 
her  to  read.  She  was  afraid  folk  would  laugh 
at  her,  so  they  must  pretend  that  she  was 


The  Daily  Round  201 

teaching  Little-Maid  how  to  sew,  and  that  was 
the  reason  why  she  was  to  come  into  the  best 
parlour  for  an  hour  every  morning. 

Well,  surely  there  could  not  be  any  harm  in 
that. 

And  Fru  Raklitz  said  that  she  was  very 
pleased  about  it,  for  Little-Maid  must  see  how 
unpleasant  it  was  for  the  wife  of  a  Pastor  not 
to  be  able  to  write.  She  had  a  letter  she  wanted 
to  send  off  that  very  day  if  only  she  could 
manage  it.  Perhaps  Little-Maid  was  clever 
enough  to  write  down  on  paper  the  words  she 
dictated.  Little-Maid  agreed  in  a  moment. 
She  put  up  the  leaf  of  a  table,  spread  out  her 
paper,  drew  the  cork  out  of  the  ink  bottle, 
and  sat  down  to  write  at  her  mistress's  dicta- 
tion. 


CHAPTER    XIV 

A    SPRING    EVENING 

THE  Pastor's  daughter  was  out  one  spring 
evening  taking  a  walk  with  Little-Maid. 
It  was  an  old  habit  of  hers  to  go  out  for  a  little 
every  evening  and  her  stepmother  had  not 
forbidden  it,  only  insisted  that  Little-Maid 
should  go  too,  for  it  was  not  fitting  for  a  young 
girl  of  her  age  to  stroll  about  the  country  roads 
alone.  She  was  going  southwards  as  usual,  for 
the  road  was  best  in  that  direction,  and  so 
slowly  was  she  walking  that  Little-Maid  found 
it  hard  work  to  put  up  with  such  dragging 
footsteps.  One  moment  she  would  hurry  on 
in  front,  and  the  next  lag  behind  as  far  as  she 
could,  just  to  have  the  chance  of  running 
herself  out  of  breath  to  catch  up  Mamsell  Maia 
Lisa.  The  road  wound  up  to  the  wooded 
heights  that  bounded  the  Lovdala  lands.  As 
the  Pastor's  daughter  walked  on  she  could  not 
help  thinking  how  strange  it  was  that  Little- 
Maid  could  find  so  much  to  amuse  her  in  the 
short  stretch  of  road  that  they  tramped  over 
every  evening.  First  there  was  the  echo.  Little- 
Maid  ran  up  the  avenue  before  her  to  get  a 
little  talk  with  it.  She  knew  it  lived  a  little 


202 


A  Spring  Evening  203 

way  up  the  road,  exactly  in  front  of  the  Lovdala 
rye-barn,  so  there  she  stopped,  turned  to  the 
barn  wall,  and  began  to  cry  : 

"  Echo,  echo,  tell  my  fortune  ?  '  "  Tell 
my  fortune/'  answered  echo. 

"  Is  my  lover  a  very  fine  man  ?  '  "A  very 
fine  man,"  answered  echo. 

"  And  has  he  very  much  money  ?  '  "  Very 
much  money,"  answered  echo. 

"  Is  it  all  or  nothing  true  ?  "  "  Nothing  true," 
answered  echo. 

The  Pastor's  daughter  herself  had  taught 
Little-Maid  this  a  few  months  ago,  but  all  was 
so  different  then  from  now,  when  she  had  no 
strength  left  to  stand  joking  with  echo. 

Little-Maid  kept  by  her  side  until  they  reached 
the  small  gravel-pit  lying  to  the  left  of  the  road, 
close  under  the  mountain-side.  There  she  left 
the  Pastor's  daughter,  to  jump  down  the  pit 
and  dig  amongst  the  fallen  stones  in  search  of 
-mica.  It  was  only  when  she  had  quite  lost  sight 
of  Mamsell  Maia  Lisa  round  the  bend  of  the 
road  that  she  came  racing  after  her.  Then 
they  went  on  again  to  the  brook.  Little-Maid 
could  never  understand  how  the  Pastor's 
daughter  could  pass  on  without  even  stopping 
to  look  at  its  waters  rushing  in  a  dark  torrent 
from  the  forest  heights  and  making  fall  after 
fall,  each  finer  than  the  last,  before  it  reached 
the  level  of  the  road.  When  it  had  foamed 
and  roared  under  the  narrow  bridge,  it  wanted 
to  break  its  bounds  again  and  spread  far  and 
wide.  But  Little-Maid  could  not  put  up  with 
that.  Down  she  hurried  from  the  road  to  dig 


204  Liliecrona's  Home 

a  dam  and  force  the  brook  back  into  its  old 
bed  again. 

She  would  have  been  grateful  if  Mamsell 
Maia  Lisa  would  have  stopped  and  helped  her. 
But  it  was  as  much  as  the  Pastor's  daughter 
could  do  to  get  over  even  level  ground,  dragging 
herself  along  rather  than  really  walking.  Other 
years  she  too  had  been  quite  ready  to  dam 
up  the  brook,  but  then,  indeed,  she  had  been  but 
a  child.  Suddenly  she  stopped,  for  all  at  once 
she  realised  what  had  happened  to  her.  She 
had  grown  old,  she  had  been  robbed  of  youth 
and  youth's  pleasures.  The  Pastor's  daughter 
went  on  and  on,  and  Little-Maid  was  forced 
to  give  up  the  brook  and  run  after  her.  It  was 
not  for  long,  however,  that  she  kept  on  the  high- 
road. 

They  came  to  a  gate  leading  into  a  spinney, 
where  Little-Maid  had  heard  white  wood  ane- 
mones were  to  be  found.  They  were  not  ready 
yet,  but  spring  was  so  far  advanced  that  there 
was  hope  of  them  any  day  now.  Little-Maid 
opened  the  gate  just  to  peep  in,  for  she  had  the 
idea  firmly  fixed  in  her  mind  that  this  year 
she  was  to  be  the  first  to  bring  white  anemones 
home.  As  for  the  Pastor's  daughter,  she  was 
walking  along  like  an  old,  old  body,  not  the 
least  anxious  to  look  for  spring  flowers. 

A  few  steps  farther  on  Little-Maid  had  another 
good  friend  whom  she  never  failed  to  call 
upon.  That  was  the  owl  that  lived  in  the  big 
hollow  birch,  the  largest  tree  in  all  Lovdala. 
When  Little-Maid  used  to  poke  a  dry  twig 
into  his  nest,  out  came  his  claw  to  push  away 


A  Spring  Evening  205 

the  bit  of  wood,  so  that  she  never  saw  any 
more  of  the  owl  than  his  great  claws.  The 
Pastor's  daughter  knew  all  about  this,  for  she 
too  in  her  time  had  stopped  to  tease  the  owl. 
Now  she  could  not  understand  how  there  had 
ever  been  any  fun  in  it  at  all. 

As  soon  as  they  had  passed  the  hollow  birch, 
Little-Maid  came  running  up,  and  the  Pastor's 
daughter  knew  she  would  stick  close  enough 
to  her  for  a  time.  For  now  they  had  to  go  by 
the  mossy  old  garden  wall  where  there  was  no 
lack  of  ghostly  beings.  Ah,  how  lovingly  the 
Pastor's  daughter  looked  back  to  the  time 
when  she  too  had  been  afraid  of  the  uncanny 
headless  Pastor  who  might  perchance  be  seen 
just  here  by  the  stone  wall ! 

It  was  uphill  now,  and  Maia  Lisa  noticed 
that  she  was  only  going  at  a  snail's  pace,  and 
felt  as  though  she  would  never  get  to  the  top. 
Farther  than  that  she  never  went ;  for  there, 
close  to  the  edge  of  the  road,  lay  a  great  granite 
block  called  the  Rest  Stone,  and  she  used  to 
sit  down  on  it  for  a  while.  On  the  front  of  the 
stone  a  little  seat  had  been  hollowed  out,  just 
big  enough  for  her  and  Little-Maid  to  squeeze 
in  together.  She  closed  her  eyes  and  felt  too 
utterly  weary  to  say  a  word,  and  Little-Maid 
kept  silence  too.  Once  the  Pastor's  daughter 
looked  up,  for  she  thought  the  child  had  run 
off  again  on  some  new  expedition.  But  no, 
there  she  sat,  gently  stroking  a  fold  of  Maia 
Lisa's  dress  as  it  lay  across  her  knee. 

Everything  was  so  hard  for  the  Pastor's 
daughter,  for  her  who  ought  to  inherit  Lovdala 


206  Liliecrona's  Home 

and  all  the  parish.  She  thought  this  poor 
child  was  the  only  one  who  had  not  forsaken 
her.  She  felt  so  old  and  tired  just  because 
everyone  had  left  her,  and  as  lonely  as  one 
whom  death  has  robbed  of  all  her  friends. 

Since  she  had  come  back  from  Svanskog  she 
had  not  met  a  single  person  who  wished  her 
well  or  held  out  a  helping  hand.  When  she 
first  came  from  there  every  day  she  had  ex- 
pected someone  to  come  and  set  her  free  from 
all  her  troubles.  She  did  not  know  who  it 
would  be  or  how  they  would  help  her,  but 
she  felt  so  many  wonders  had  happened  during 
those  two  days,  that  when  they  had  once  begun 
they  could  not  fail  to  continue. 

But,  since  then,  day  after  day  had  passed 
and  nothing  had  happened.  Weeks  had  fol- 
lowed weeks,  all  so  much  alike,  that  as  she 
looked  back  she  could  not  distinguish  one  from 
another. 

There  was  something  peculiar  and  incom- 
prehensible in  the  silence  around  her.  At 
times  she  fancied  that  events  which  concerned 
her  were  happening  far  away  in  the  world. 
She  was  surrounded  by  an  echo  of  voices ; 
sometimes  even  she  felt  very  worried  because 
someone  was  longing  for  her  and  wanting  to 
reach  her.  But  the  whole  of  February,  March, 
and  April  had  gone  now  and  not  a  message  or 
letter  had  she  had  from  those  who  were  free  to 
move  about  as  they  pleased  and  were  not  shut 
up  as  she  was  in  an  iron  cage.  Now  she  began 
to  realise  that  no  one  was  coming,  and  that 
she  must  fight  her  battle  alone  without  any 


A  Spring  Evening  207 

helping  hand.  But  how  hard  it  was  to  give  up 
all  hope  !  She  thought  she  had  won  such  strong 
kind  friends,  she  still  could  not  believe  that 
they  did  not  trouble  about  her. 

The  old  stone  she  was  sitting  on  was  said  to 
have  lain  on  the  wayside  ever  since  the  time 
when  Lovdala  had  been  nothing  but  a  cow- 
house in  the  midst  of  wild  forest  where  the 
dairy-maids  came  every  summer  with  their  cows 
and  goats.  Then  some  young  cattle-man  had 
hollowed  out  a  seat  in  the  stone  block  to  give 
a  resting-place  to  his  sweetheart.  From  the 
hill-top,  where  it  lay,  Loven  and  the  church 
could  be  seen  in  the  far  distance,  and  those 
who  tended  the  cattle  had  no  doubt  sat  there 
many  an  evening  looking  for  someone  to  come 
and  fetch  them  from  the  solitary  pastures  down 
to  the  homes  of  men  again.  When  she  sat 
here  she  could  always  feel  that  many  a  longing 
soul  had  been  there  before  her.  The  Pastor's 
daughter  buried  her  head  in  her  hands  and 
sighed.  If  anyone  wanted  to  help  her,  they 
must  come  soon.  She  could  not  hold  out  much 
longer ;  not  that  any  disease  had  attacked  her, 
but  she  was  near  to  death's  door  from  very 
sorrow  and  desolate  loneliness.  She  would 
certainly  not  be  able  to  crawl  up  here  many 
more  times. 

Besides,  it  was  not  only  for  herself  that  help 
and  rescue  were  needed,  but  for  Lovdala  too. 
The  home  whose  every  stone  was  dear  to  her 
heart  was  on  the  high-road  to  ruin.  They  had 
only  reached  the  last  days  of  April,  and  it  was 
cold  for  sitting  still,  so  she  began  to  go  slowly 


2o8  Liliecrona's  Home 

homewards,  no  longer  thinking  of  herself,  but 
only  of  Lovdala. 

One  Sunday  towards  the  end  of  March  her 
father  had  come  home  from  church  with  the 
news  that  Pastor  Liliecrona  had  petitioned  the 
King  to  release  him  from  his  nomination  to  the 
living  of  Sjoskoga.  When  he  spoke  of  this  at 
the  dinner-table  her  cheeks  had  flamed  in  her 
eagerness  to  hear  more,  and  she  had  at  once 
asked  if  dear  father  had  heard  why  he  would  not 
accept  the  high  position.  But  her  father  could 
not  answer.  He  only  knew  that  Pastor  Lilie- 
crona was  doing  much  good  amongst  his 
people,  and  he  added  that  he  must  be  a  man  of 
singular  merit  to  be  able  to  refuse  a  com- 
petence, and  a  high  social  position  as  well,  to 
stay  with  those  who  needed  him. 

Her  stepmother,  too,  had  shown  special 
interest  in  the  news.  She  had  asked  if  it  was 
really  a  fact  that  Liliecrona  had  now  quite 
given  up  Sjoskoga,  and  when  she  was  assured 
that  that  was  so,  she  had  said  straight  out  in 
her  abrupt  fashion  that  in  her  opinion  dear 
father  ought  to  try  for  it. 

The  Pastor  had  certainly  not  been  very  often 
at  a  loss  in  his  life,  but  now  he  sat  speechless, 
staring  at  his  wife.  Indeed,  he  had  almost  a 
frightened  look,  as  if  he  felt  it  a  misfortune  that 
such  an  idea  had  occurred  to  her.  He  was 
evidently  no  longer  very  sure  that  he  had  the 
strength  to  say  Fru  Raklitz  nay. 

Maia  Lisa  was  quite  upset  as  well.  She  would 
have  liked  to  think  that  her  stepmother  was 
joking,  if  such  a  thing  had  been  possible. 


A  Spring  Evening  209 

And  in  one  way,  of  course,  her  idea  was  not  so 
foolish.  Maia  Lisa  herself  had  often  thought 
her  father  ought  to  be  bishop  at  least,  but 
since  he  had  had  that  stroke  it  would  indeed 
be  doing  him  the  greatest  wrong  to  urge  him 
to  try  for  a  large  and  burdensome  living. 
Dear  father  had  certainly  been  much  stronger 
lately,  and  now  seemed  almost  his  old  self 
again,  but  her  stepmother  could  not  fail  to 
know  that  his  strength  was  no  longer  what  it 
was  before. 

But  Maia  Lisa  forced  herself  to  keep  silence. 
If  she  had  ventured  to  bring  forward  her  ob- 
jections, she  would  only  have  raised  her  step- 
mother's zeal  to  fever  heat. 

When  Fru  Raklitz  got  no  reply  from  either 
one  or  the  other  she  went  on  talking  about  the 
matter.  "  If  you  sit  rooted  to  one  spot  too 
long,  you  grow  old  before  your  time.  There  is 
nothing  so  good  for  anyone  as  to  be  shaken  out 
of  an  old  rut  and  go  to  fresh  work." 

Maia  Lisa  thought  that  it  had  gone  too  far 
with  dear  father  for  him  to  be  refreshed  with 
increased  work,  but  she  still  contrived  to  hold 
her  peace.  Then  her  stepmother  began  to  talk 
as  if  it  were  already  decided  that  the  Pastor 
would  fall  in  with  her  suggestion.  No  doubt 
the  whole  election  would  have  to  take  place 
again,  but  in  any  case  he  must  go  to  Karlstad 
the  next  day  and  inquire,  and  then  it  would 
be  best  for  him  to  go  straight  on  to  Stockholm 
and  make  his  application  to  His  Majesty  in 
person.  She  knew  he  had  special  qualifications 
as  far  as  learning  went  and  could  get  many 


2io  Liliecrona's  Home 

strong  supporters,  as  he  had  been  tutor  many 
years  ago  to  several  influential  men  who  were 
now  in  high  places. 

Until  then  Maia  Lisa's  anxiety  had  been 
entirely  on  her  father's  account,  but  now  another 
thought  flashed  across  her  mind  so  that  she  lost 
her  self-control  and  interrupted  her  stepmother 
saying,  "  If  dear  father  goes  to  Sjoskoga  he 
cannot  keep  Lovdala." 

Her  stepmother  turned  towards  her  and 
crooked  her  fingers  till  her  hand  looked  like 
claws,  whilst  all  the  detestation  and  hatred 
she  had  ever  felt  for  Maia  Lisa  shook  her  voice 
to  such  a  degree  that  it  was  barely  possible  to 
understand  her  words  as  she  answered : 

"  Is  your  father  compelled  to  sit  here  and  keep 
Lovdala  warm  for  you  ?  It  is  just  as  well  that 
he  can  get  clear  of  it,  and  be  a  free  man  again 
and  get  into  a  position  suited  to  him." 

The  Pastor  had  finished  his  dinner  and  made 
haste  to  get  up  from  the  table.  He  was  glad 
to  be  able  to  put  an  end  to  the  conversation. 
But  now  Maia  Lisa  knew  what  her  stepmother 
meant  when  she  had  said  that  one  day  she 
would  teach  her  how  to  cry.  Dear  father  was 
to  go  and  try  for  Sjoskoga  simply  because  her 
stepmother  knew  that  she  loved  Lovdala 
above  all  else,  and  that  nothing  in  the  world 
would  give  her  such  sorrow  as  to  lose  her 
childhood's  home. 

For  a  good  week  Fru  Raklitz  had  to  stick 
to  her  work  before  she  could  stir  the  Pastor. 
Every  day  she  begged  and  prayed  and  used  all 
her  influence  to  induce  him,  at  any  rate,  to  go 


A  Spring  Evening  2 1 1 

to  Karlstad  and  see  how  the  matter  stood. 
But  up  to  the  very  last  it  seemed  as  if  she 
would  never  succeed,  and  certainly  she  would 
have  had  to  give  up  the  attempt  if  something 
else  had  not  come  to  her  aid.  Her  husband 
had  been  the  Pastor  of  Svartsjo  for  twenty 
years,  and  all  the  time  he  had  had  to  bear  much 
annoyance  and  many  a  sore  trouble  too.  First 
and  foremost  his  heavy  task  when  the  old 
church  was  burnt  down  by  lightning  and  he  had 
to  get  a  new  one  built.  Not  only  was  he 
obliged  to  beg  money  from  the  King,  but  he 
had  asked  for  help  from  several  wealthy  land- 
owners, and  had  travelled  from  parish  to  parish 
to  collect  funds.  When  the  church  was  finished 
it  was  recognised  that  the  building  was  mainly 
due  to  his  efforts,  and  he  had  on  that  account 
enjoyed  the  deep  gratitude  and  respect  of  his 
people.  But  lately  he  had  certainly  noticed 
that  his  parishioners  had  begun  to  fall  away 
from  him.  They  did  not  come  as  of  old  to 
ask  his  advice  on  this  or  that  question.  The 
reason,  of  course,  was  that  they  thought  his 
advice  now  was  dictated  by  his  wife's  opinions. 
But  the  Pastor  did  not  understand  that,  and 
felt  aggrieved. 

And  much  the  same  had  happened  with  his 
immediate  dependents.  The  dwelling-house, 
no  less  than  the  church,  had  been  burnt  down 
in  the  Pastor's  time,  and  he  had  been  put  to 
much  expense  and  inconvenience  to  build  it 
again.  All  the  people  on  the  estate  who  had, 
for  the  most  part,  worked  there  long  before  his 
time  had  been  glad  of  his  success  both  in 


212  Liliecrona's  Home 

building  and  in  the  cultivation  of  his  land, 
so  that  he  never  met  with  any  but  friendly 
looks.  But  lately  there  had  been  a  change. 
He  saw  sullen  faces  both  in  the  servants'  room 
and  in  the  kitchen,  and,  as  he  would  not  for  a 
moment  give  the  blame  where  it  rightfully 
belonged,  he  went  in  a  constant  state  of  wonder 
why  his  good  old  servants  now  proved  them- 
selved  ungrateful  and  surly. 

All  this  was  an  immense  help  to  the  Pastor's 
wife  when  she  wanted  to  persuade  him  to  try 
for  Sjoskoga.  But  she  would  certainly  not 
have  succeeded,  even  with  this  to  help  her,  if 
there  had  not  been  the  trouble  with  Vetter  as  well. 

The  Pastor's  daughter  was  so  tired  and  de- 
pressed that  she  paid  little  heed  to  time,  but 
she  thought  it  must  have  been  about  the  middle 
of  March  that  her  stepmother  had  been  so 
frightened  because  Vetter  had  come  home 
from  prison  again. 

Vetter  lived  in  a  tiny  cottage,  a  little  to  the 
north  of  Lovdala,  and  they  ought  really  all 
of  them  to  have  been  frightened  that  he  was 
home  again,  for  he  was  a  professional  thief. 
But  Vetter  had  been  a  neighbour  of  Lovdala's 
for  many  years,  and  they  did  not  trouble  much 
whether  he  was  at  home  or  away,  especially 
as  they  knew  he  was  too  clever  to  steal  from 
his  next-door  neighbours.  Every  time  Vetter 
came  from  prison  he  vowed  he  would  stay  at 
home,  but  he  was  never  able  to  keep  his  vow. 
He  liked  his  profession,  and  he  was  as  proud  of 
his  clever  thefts  as  the  Pastor's  wife  was  of  her 
fine  cooking.  But  the  consequence  of  this  was 


A  Spring  Evening  213 

that  he  spent  the  greater  part  of  his  life  in 
prison.  When  the  Pastor  had  married  a  second 
time,  Vetter  had  been  under  lock  and  key, 
so  that  the  Pastor's  wife  had  not  the  slightest 
inkling  that  she  had  a  professional  burglar  as 
her  neighbour. 

So  now  she  was  nearly  terrified  out  of  her 
senses.  It  was  Fru  Raklitz's  firm  conviction 
that  everyone  stole,  dear  father  scarcely  ex- 
cepted,  and  she  lived  in  perpetual  fear  of  losing 
all  her  belongings.  In  the  course  of  the  many 
years  that  she  had  been  housekeeper  in  grand 
families  she  had  got  a  fair  amount  of  silver  as 
presents,  and  this  she  kept  in  a  box  which  she 
put  every  night  under  her  bed.  This  silver 
was  her  dearest  possession,  and  now  when  a 
burglar  lived  quite  close,  she  was  certain  it 
would  be  lost.  She  already  had  her  cupboards 
and  doors  so  securely  fastened  that  they  could 
not  be  made  any  safer.  But  after  Vetter  came 
home  she  had  time  for  scarcely  anything  but 
trying  the  locks  and  counting  the  keys  on  her 
ring.  In  the  evening  she  used  to  fetch  a  great 
axe  from  the  woodshed  to  put  beside  the  bed, 
and  she  never  rested  until  the  Pastor  hung  a 
loaded  gun  over  the  head  of  the  bed.  He  tried 
to  convince  her  that  Vetter  never  stole  from 
his  neighbours,  but  it  was  impossible  to  calm 
her  fears. 

When  Vetter  had  been  at  home  a  couple  of 
days  he  came  to  pay  a  visit  to  Lovdala,  as  he 
always  did.  The  Pastor's  wife  was  standing 
in  the  kitchen,  and  as  she  saw  him  pass  the 
window  she  asked  at  once  who  it  was. 


214  Liliecrona's  Home 

"  Why,  that's  Vetter,"  answered  the  house- 
keeper with  a  little  astonishment.  "  Of  course 
he  is  coming  up  to  let  the  Pastor  know  he  is 
at  home  again."  Fru  Raklitz  had  certainly 
not  expected  this  answer,  for  the  man  who 
had  gone  into  the  Pastor's  room  looked  a  nice 
respectable  old  peasant.  It  was  too  much 
for  her,  and  she  nearly  fainted  from  fright.  As 
soon  as  she  had  recovered  a  little  she  hastened 
into  the  other  rooms,  took  the  silver  chest  and 
sat  on  the  drawing-room  sofa,  clasping  it  in 
her  arm  as  long  as  Vetter  stayed  in  the  house. 
And  a  good  time  she  had  to  sit,  for  the  Pastor 
had  always  had  a  certain  liking  for  Vetter, 
and  did  not  let  him  go  until  he  had  heard  all 
his  latest  experiences.  And  when  he  had 
finished  the  Pastor  had  to  give  him  a  few  words 
of  warning  and  admonition,  so  that  it  might 
not  look  as  though  he  had  let  him  tell  his  tale 
just  for  the  pleasure  of  hearing  him. 

After  this  the  Pastor's  wife  grew  a  little  less 
frightened  for  the  valuables  in  the  dwelling- 
house,  but  so  much  the  more  uneasy  for  the 
barns  and  out-buildings,  and  above  all,  for  the 
larder  and  storeroom.  This  had  such  a  wretched 
old  lock  that  anyone  who  liked  could  open  it. 
If  the  key  wasn't  handy  it  was  quite  easy  to 
turn  it  with  a  bit  of  stick. 

In  the  very  same  week  when  there  was  so 
much  talk  about  Sjoskoga,  Fru  Raklitz  had 
sent  to  Smedsby  to  fetch  Olaus,  a  master  lock- 
smith, and  set  him  to  make  a  new  lock  which 
was  to  be  strong  enough  to  resist  the  cleverest 
burglar  that  ever  was.  For  four  days  Olaus 


A  Spring  Evening  215 

stood  working  in  the  smithy,  but  at  the  end  of 
that  time  he  had  made  a  great  lock  so  heavy 
and  stiff  that  even  the  Pastor's  wife  herself 
could  scarcely  turn  the  key. 

When  it  had  been  fixed  on  the  larder  door  Fru 
Raklitz  was  quite  happy.  She  locked  the  door 
herself  in  the  evening  and  took  the  key  to  bed 
with  her.  She  said  she  should  sleep  more 
easily  that  night  than  she  had  done  for  many  a 
long  day.  Next  morning  when  she  awoke  the 
great  key  lay  untouched  under  her  pillow, 
but  that  had  not  prevented  something  very 
remarkable  from  happening  in  the  larder  under 
cover  of  the  darkness. 

There  stood  the  door,  just  as  securely  fastened 
as  the  evening  before,  but  none  the  less  every- 
thing movable  that  had  been  inside — tubs  of 
meat,  poles1  of  bread,  hams,  and  sausages, 
weights  and  measures,  buckets  and  sacks — 
had  all  been  carried  out  and  arranged  on  the 
larder  steps.  Everything  was  moved  out,  as 
we  have  said,  but  nothing  destroyed,  nothing 
taken  away,  and  when  they  saw  it  all  standing 
outside  the  door  it  was  impossible  not  to  wonder 
how  it  could  possibly  have  got  there.  The 
Pastor's  wife,  like  everyone  else,  at  once  guessed 
that  Vetter  had  been  there.  But  when  she  had 
poked  and  pried  and  found  that  not  a  crumb 
was  missing,  she  really  could  not  understand  a 
thief  like  that. 

1  Swedish  bread  is  baked  in  the  form  of  thin  biscuits,  about  nine 
inches  in  diameter  with  a  hole  in  the  centre,  through  which  a  long 
pole  is  run.  These  poles  are  kept  in  the  storeroom  for  three 
months  at  a  time, 


216  Liliecrona's  Home 

When  the  Pastor  went  for  his  morning  walk, 
however,  he  met  Vetter  and  got  an  explanation. 

"  Vetter,  Vetter  !  "  he  said,  "  what  are  you 
up  to  now  ?  Was  it  you  that  visited  my  larder 
last  night  ? ';  Vetter  looked  quite  insulted 
as  he  replied : 

"  Pastor  can  give  my  respects  to  his  wife 
and  tell  her  that  I  have  never  stolen  from  my 
neighbours.  But  she  needn't  think  that  any 
of  her  locks  are  good  enough  to  keep  me  from 
anything  I  want  to  get." 

Oh  dear,  dear  !  If  only  the  Pastor  had  been 
as  of  old  he  would  have  enjoyed  the  joke  for 
many  a  long  day,  but  now  it  only  annoyed  him. 
He  knew  the  tale  would  go  all  over  the  parish, 
and  everyone  would  laugh  at  his  wife  and  at 
him  too  perhaps.  Not  a  single  word  did  he 
answer.  No  doubt  in  his  heart  he  felt  disap- 
pointed in  everyone,  and  that  as  he  had  no 
friends  left  amongst  his  people  it  might  be 
just  as  well  to  get  away  from  Svartsjo.  When 
he  came  back  to  the  house  he  told  his  wife  he 
would  drive  to  Karlstad  next  day  and  see  how 
matters  stood  about  Sjoskoga. 

Dear  Father  had  gone  and  come  back  again, 
and  it  really  seemed  as  if  his  wife  had  been 
right,  for  he  had  looked  much  brighter  on  his 
return.  He  had  been  to  Karlstad,  and  to 
Stockholm  as  well,  and  got  many  fair  promises. 
There  was  no  doubt  about  his  getting  away 
from  Svartsjo.  The  Pastor  had  heard  a  strange 
piece  of  news  too  on  his  journey,  and  that  was 
that  Pastor  Liliecrona  of  Finnerud  had  been 
married  in  the  spring.  Folks  said  it  was  not  a 


A  Spring  Evening  217 

good  match,  for  his  wife  was  of  quite  lowly  birth. 
And  this  was  really  the  reason,  so  the  Pastor 
had  been  told,  why  he  had  chosen  to  remain 
up  there  amongst  the  Finns. 

Maia  Lisa  had  not  dared  to  ask  her  father 
for  any  more  particulars,  for  her  stepmother 
had  fixed  some  very  inquiring  looks  upon  her. 
But  at  least  she  now  understood  why  she  had 
heard  no  word  of  her  kind  helper.  And  it  was 
especially  after  that  that  she  had  lost  all 
courage  and  hope.  Pastor  Liliecrona  had 
seemed  a  brave  and  resolute  champion,  and 
she  had  trusted  him  as  she  would  a  kind  brother. 
Until  now  she  had  expected  him  to  come  riding 
up  in  the  triumphant  strength  of  his  youth  and 
put  everything  right  for  her. 


CHAPTER    XV 

THE    ACCUSATION 

"T7VERYONE  in  Lovdala  was  so  consumed 
.TIL  with  curiosity  that  they  could  scarcely 
contain  themselves.  For  just  think,  the  fore- 
man of  Henriksberg  had  come  driving  up  with 
a  woman  no  one  knew,  and  instead  of  going 
into  the  drawing-room  as  other  visitors  used 
to  do,  they  had  gone  to  the  Pastor's  study  and 
stayed  there  talking  alone  with  him  for  several 
hours.  Neither  the  Pastor's  wife  nor  his 
daughter  nor  any  of  the  maids  could  solve  the 
riddle  of  why  they  had  come.  The  housemaid 
who  helped  them  out  of  the  sledge  had  noticed 
that  they  both  looked  serious  and  troubled, 
but  that  was  all  the  information  she  could 
give. 

The  Pastor's  wife  had  tried  to  sit  in  the 
parlour  with  her  work,  for  this  room  adjoined 
the  Pastor's,  and  if  she  could  have  stayed  there 
she  would  soon  have  found  out  the  visitors' 
errand.  But  she  had  not  been  seated  two  minutes 
before  the  Pastor  peeped  out  of  his  door  and 
begged  her  to  go  somewhere  else.  What  they 
were  talking  about  in  his  study  she  should 
hear  at  the  proper  time  from  his  own  lips. 
The  strangers  had  come  so  early  in  the 
218 


The  Accusation  219 

afternoon  that  the  Pastor's  wife  was  uneasy  lest 
they  had  not  dined.  So  she  sent  in  the  house- 
maid to  ask  if  she  should  get  some  dinner 
ready,  but  the  maid  brought  back  word  that 
they  wanted  nothing.  Whilst  she  had  been  in 
the  room  no  one  had  spoken,  so  all  she  could 
report  was  that  the  woman  had  sat  there  drying 
her  eyes  as  though  she  had  been  crying. 

The  man  who  had  driven  them  over  was 
invited  into  the  kitchen  to  have  a  meal.  He 
was  very  glad  to  tell  all  he  knew,  which  how- 
ever was  not  much.  He  had  never  set  eyes  on 
the  woman  until  the  evening  before,  when  she 
had  walked  down  to  Henriksberg  and  asked  to 
see  the  foreman.  Early  this  morning  the  fore- 
man had  come  down  himself  to  the  stable  and 
ordered  a  sledge  for  Lovdala,  but  he  was  a 
man  who  would  be  silent  for  weeks  together 
and  not  one  word  had  he  uttered  all  the  time 
they  were  driving  over.  The  Pastor's  wife 
had  not  been  able  to  sit  quietly  at  her  work, 
but  had  done  nothing  but  walk  from  one  room 
to  another  ever  since  the  strangers  had  entered 
the  house.  Once  she  took  Little-Maid  into 
the  drawing-room  to  ask  her  if  she  had  told 
anyone  she  was  teaching  her  to  read  and 
write. 

Not  that  it  mattered  so  much  if  she  had.  But 
Fru  Raklitz  was  so  looking  forward  to  telling 
the  Pastor  that  she  could  read  his  books,  if 
only  Little-Maid  could  keep  the  secret  a  little 
longer.  Little-Maid  assured  her  that  she  had 
said  nothing.  She  thought  to  herself  that  she 
had  never  had  the  least  desire  to  tell  either  the 


22O  Liliecrona's  Home 

Pastor  or  anyone  else  about  the  piece  of  writing. 
There  was  something  else  far  harder  not  to 
speak  about,  for  she  could  not  understand 
why  Mamsell  Maia  Lisa  had  so  strictly  for- 
bidden her  to  tell  the  Pastor  how  her  stepmother 
treated  her.  What  would  it  matter  if  he  should 
find  out  what  sort  of  evil  spirit  he  had  for  a 
wife  ? 

Maia  Lisa  was  the  least  curious  of  all.  Lately 
her  soul  had  seemed  almost  paralysed.  She 
could  be  neither  glad  nor  sorry,  and  cared 
nothing  what  happened  to  her.  She  fancied 
her  stepmother  would  never  cease  tormenting 
her  until  she  lay  on  a  bed  of  sickness.  Not  that 
that  mattered  much.  And  least  of  all  did  she 
dread  the  thought  of  death.  It  would  be  but 
a  beautiful,  quiet  rest.  She  was  sitting  at  her 
loom  when  Little-Maid  came  in  to  tell  her 
that  the  Henriksberg  foreman  had  come  to 
Lovdala,  and  she  only  stopped  her  work  for 
a  moment.  "  The  Henriksberg  foreman  " 
how  unfamiliar  the  name  sounded.  Why 
should  his  coming  matter  to  her  ?  If  it  had 
been  in  the  winter  she  would  have  expected 
everything  from  it,  but  now  .  .  . 

At  five  o'clock  the  Pastor  rang  his  bell  and 
asked  for  a  tray  of  bread  and  butter  and  three 
glasses  of  milk  to  be  taken  into  the  parlour. 
As  he  had  particularly  said  three  glasses  his 
wife  understood  that  he  did  not  wish  for  her 
company,  so  she  sat  sewing  in  the  drawing- 
room  until  she  heard  her  husband  and  his 
visitors  go  into  the  parlour.  Then  she  put 
down  her  work  and  went  into  the  kitchen. 


The  Accusation  221 

"  Come  with  me,"  she  said  to  Little-Maid. 
"  I  must  have  the  Pastor's  best  clothes  to  get 
them  brushed,  for  it  is  Sunday  to-morrow,  but 
I  have  not  been  able  to  go  into  his  room.  We 
must  try,  if  we  can  manage  it,  now  whilst  they 
are  eating  their  supper."  They  crossed  the 
hall  on  tiptoe,  and  Fru  Raklitz  opened  the 
door  of  the  Pastor's  room  so  softly  that  it 
could  not  possibly  disturb  those  others  who 
were  sitting  in  the  parlour.  Then  she  opened 
the  wardrobe  door  just  as  cautiously. 

"  Now  get  in  there,"  she  whispered  to  Little- 
Maid  ;  "  but  do  be  quiet." 

Little-Maid  got  into  the  cupboard  and  in  a 
second  the  Pastor's  wife  had  shut  the  door. 
"  Now  they  are  coming.  You  must  just  stay 
where  you  are  for  a  little,"  she  whispered 
through  the  crack  of  the  door.  And  Little- 
Maid  heard  how  she  crept  away.  But  if  the 
Pastor's  wife  had  contrived  to  shut  Little- 
Maid  in  the  cupboard  to  find  out  what  the 
strangers  had  come  for,  she  had  her  trouble  for 
nothing.  For  now  the  Pastor  sent  both  for 
her  and  his  daughter,  and  even  for  old  Fru 
Beat  a  from  the  brewhouse  room. 

When  they  came  in,  the  Henriksberg  foreman 
was  standing  with  his  arms  crossed,  leaning 
against  the  Pastor's  great  bookcase,  and  the 
woman  he  had  brought  with  him  was  sitting 
on  the  little  corner  sofa.  She  was  young,  and 
would  have  been  good-looking  if  her  face 
had  not  been  so  flushed  and  tear-stained.  As 
each  one  entered  the  Pastor  got  up  and  in- 
troduced the  strangers.  This,  he  said,  was  the 


222  Liliecrona's  Home 

wife  of  Pastor  Liliecrona  of  Finnerud,  and 
that  was  her  brother-in-law,  Foreman  Lilie- 
crona of  the  Hemiksberg  ironworks.  Nothing 
more  was  said  until  the  Pastor's  wife  and  Fru 
Beata  had  seated  themselves  in  the  Pastor's 
two  great  high-backed  chairs,  and  Maia  Lisa 
had  taken  her  place  on  a  stool  close  to  the 
writing-table,  where  she  had  sat  in  bygone  days 
whenever  she  came  to  her  father's  room. 

They  all  felt  a  storm  was  brewing,  but  no  one 
knew  on  whom  it  was  to  burst  until  the  Pastor 
directly  addressed  his  daughter.  "  No  doubt 
you  already  know  all  about  Fru  Pastor  Lilie- 
crona who  is  sitting  here  now  ?  "  he  said. 

Maia  Lisa  kept  her  eyes  cast  down,  for  she 
did  not  dare  to  look  at  her  father.  No  sooner 
had  she  entered  the  room  than  she  noticed 
that  something  terrible  had  happened  to  him. 
"Now,"  thought  she,  "dear  father's  death-blow 
has  come."  His  face  was  grey  and  he  panted 
heavily  between  every  word  he  uttered.  Her 
anxiety  was  so  intense  that  paralysis  and  in- 
difference had  taken  flight  at  once.  Her  hands 
began  to  tremble  and  she  clenched  her  teeth 
to  keep  them  from  chattering.  She  expected 
nothing  less  than  that  he  would  have  a  stroke 
and  fall  down  dead  before  her  eyes.  But  the 
Pastor  sat  there  waiting  for  her  answer,  and 
at  last  she  so  far  mastered  her  fright  as  to  be 
able  to  say  in  a  fairly  calm  voice  :  "  Dear 
Father,  I  have  never  seen  Fru  Pastor  before 
to-day.  I  do  not  understand  what  dear  father 
means." 

Her  father  shrugged  his  shoulders.    Perhaps 


The  Accusation  223 

she  would  understand  better  if  he  informed 
her  that  Fru  Pastor  was  the  lady  who  had  for 
several  years  been  Pastor  Liliecrona's  house- 
keeper ?  There  was  something  strange  in  the 
Pastor's  voice,  a  note  of  anger  and  contempt. 
There  was,  too,  a  threatening  frown  on  his 
brow,  and  one  flush  after  another  flamed  across 
his  face.  Maia  Lisa  saw  that  something  had 
happened  which  made  her  father  not  only  very 
unhappy,  but  very  angry  as  well.  And  al- 
though she  could  in  no  wise  imagine  how  such  a 
thing  was  possible,  yet  she  had  to  confess  to 
herself  that  his  anger  was  directed  against 
herself.  Almost  unconsciously  she  got  up 
from  her  little  stool  and  stood  straight  and 
slim  in  front  of  her  father  to  defend  herself 
more  ably.  "Dear  Father,  no  doubt,  can  see 
that  I  am  no  wiser  than  before/' 

The  Pastor  looked  as  though  he  had  not 
expected  such  obstinacy.  He  had,  of  course, 
no  doubt  that  she  knew  the  whole  story,  but 
since  she  wished  to  hear  it  again  he  had  no 
objection  to  telling  it  from  his  point  of  view. 
Possibly  her  aunt  in  Svanskog  had  not  given 
her  an  accurate  account.  Maia  Lisa  ventured 
to  interrupt  her  father.  Her  aunt  in  Svanskog 
had  talked  a  good  deal  of  Pastor  Liliecrona, 
but  had  not  mentioned  one  single  word  about 
his  housekeeper.  The  Pastor  waved  the  in- 
terruption impatiently  aside.  It  was  all  one 
whether  she  had  heard  the  gossip  from  her  aunt 
or  from  someone  else.  No  doubt  from  some 
woman  or  other,  for  he  knew  perfectly  well 
that  they  were  always  the  most  spiteful  to  one 


224  Liliecrona's  Home 

another.  If  a  man  had  chanced  to  speak  of 
the  matter  he  would  at  the  same  time  have 
reminded  her  that  before  she  judged  her 
neighbour  she  must  put  herself  in  his  place. 
How  many  of  those  who  rejoiced  that  Pastor 
Liliecrona  had  stayed  long  amongst  the  Finns, 
spending  his  strength  for  their  salvation,  had 
pictured  to  themselves  what  sort  of  a  life  he 
had  up  there  !  The  Pastor  himself  had  never 
known  until  to-day  that  he  had  been  living  in 
a  native  hut  with  one  room  only,  and  that  his 
stipend  was  barely  one  hundred  thalers.  What 
a  labour  for  whoever  managed  his  house  to 
keep  the  wolf  from  the  door  even  !  She  who 
was  sitting  on  the  sofa  there  had  not  only 
woven  his  clothes,  but  made  them  as  well.  She 
had  taken  his  cows  and  sheep  to  their  forest 
pastures,  and  all  the  years  she  had  served  him 
she  had  done  far  more  for  him  than  any  spoilt 
fine  young  lady  could  ever  dream  of.  She, 
indeed,  could  write  to  her  credit,  and  hers  alone, 
that  Pastor  Liliecrona  had  been  able  to  carry 
on  his  good  work  there. 

The  Pastor's  daughter  felt  that  she  too  was 
beginning  to  feel  a  little  annoyed  as  well  as 
the  Pastor.  Why,  indeed,  was  dear  father 
angry  ?  Did  he  think  she  had  tried  to  beguile 
Pastor  Liliecrona  when  they  chanced  to  meet 
in  Svanskog  ?  Surely  there  was  no  sin  in 
speaking  to  him  !  But  she  kept  her  words  in 
check,  and  only  begged  her  father  to  believe 
that  she  had  never  heard  a  word  of  all  this. 
The  Pastor  impatiently  fingered  a  little  crushed 
note  lying  on  the  writing-table  in  front  of  him. 


The  Accusation  225 

It  was  certainly  remarkable,  he  said,  that  she 
had  got  to  know  of  the  relationship  between 
Pastor  Liliecrona  and  his  housekeeper,  when 
it  had  been  kept  such  a  secret  that  even  his 
brother  was  entirely  ignorant  of  it  until  after 
their  marriage.  But  when  she  had  managed 
to  find  it  out,  how  could  she  have  been  so  hasty 
in  passing  judgment  on  it  ?  Could  she  not  see 
that  the  other  had  the  most  sacred  rights  ? 
Even  if  she  were  not  yet  his  lawful  wife,  even 
if  she  were  of  lower  rank,  ought  her  long  devo- 
tion, her  great  self-sacrifice,  to  have  been  mis- 
understood even  by  the  most  hard-hearted  ? 

The  Pastor's  daughter  once  more  begged  him 
to  excuse  her,  but  she  really  did  not  understand 
what  her  fault  had  been.  It  was  evident  how 
terribly  vexed  the  Pastor  was  at  being  forced 
to  give  so  many  explanations,  and  great  drops 
of  sweat  stood  out  upon  his  brow. 

If  it  were  really  any  news  to  her,  he  went  on, 
he  would  inform  her  that  many  years  ago  Pastor 
Liliecrona  had  promised  marriage  to  the  woman 
who  was  now  his  wife.  It  had  been  arranged 
that  the  marriage  should  take  place  as  soon 
as  he  was  in  a  position  to  keep  a  wife  in  comfort 
and  not  be  obliged  to  let  her  lead  a  servant's 
life.  Nor  had  there  ever  been  the  least  doubt 
that  he  would  keep  his  promise  until  just 
after  this  Christmas.  Pastor  Liliecrona  had 
then  gone  a  little  journey,  to  meet  his  brother, 
it  was  said.  He  had  gone  no  farther  than 
Svanskog  inn,  but  on  his  return  he  had  been 
utterly  changed.  He  was  restless  and  gloomy, 
and  no  longer  talked  of  their  marriage.  So 


226  Liliecrona's  Home 

they  made  inquiries  as  to  whom  he  had  met  in 
Svanskog.  (And  with  that  he  turned  and 
faced  Maia  Lisa.)  "  But  perhaps  you  have  no 
idea  either  whom  he  met  ?  " 

"  Dear  Father,  I  know  he  met  me.  Pastor 
Liliecrona  talked  to  me  all  day,  very  simply 
and  naturally,  just  like  a  kind  brother." 

The  Pastor  made  a  gesture  of  annoyance 
again  as  if  in  despair  at  her  stubbornness. 

"  It  may  be  true  enough  that  Pastor  Lilie- 
crona did  not  make  love  to  you  that  day,  but 
you  cannot  have  been  in  any  doubt  as  to  his 
feelings.  Otherwise  you  would  certainly  not 
have  been  bold  enough  to  send  this  note." 

Maia  Lisa  broke  in  without  the  least  cere- 
mony. "  Dear  Father,  I  have  never  written 
to  Pastor  Liliecrona.  If  Fru  Pastor  ..." 

'  There  is  no  question  of  writing  to  Pastor 
Liliecrona,  but  of  a  note  to  his  housekeeper." 

"  Oh,  indeed,  to  his  housekeeper  !  "  And 
Maia  Lisa's  voice  was  now  every  whit  as  angry 
and  contemptuous  as  her  father's.  "  Oh, 
indeed,  dear  Father  has  heard  that  I  have 
written  to  her,  written,  I  suppose,  to  ask  her 
to  give  up  Pastor  Liliecrona  for  my  sake  ?  " 

The  Pastor  looked  at  her  coldly.  "  No  doubt 
you  know  what  you  wrote,"  he  said.  But  the 
Pastor's  daughter  was  angry  now  in  good 
earnest.  She  was  no  longer  intent  on  sparing 
her  father,  but  only  on  clearing  herself,  and  she 
wanted  to  get  to  the  bottom  of  the  matter. 
"  Dear  Father,"  she  asked,  "  is  my  name  written 
at  the  foot  of  this  letter  ?  " 

"  No,  there  is  no  name  at  all,  but  it  was  sent  to 


The  Accusation  227 

Finnenid  with  a  message  from  your  aunt  in 
Svanskog  that  it  had  come  from  Lovdala  for 
Pastor  Liliecrona's  housekeeper."  The  Pastor 
was  certainly  amazed  that  Maia  Lisa  was  not 
overwhelmed  by  such  proof  as  this,  but  she 
simply  asked  again  : 

"  Dear  Father,  tell  me  what  else  I  have  done. 
It  is  very  amusing  to  hear  this,  and  I  really 
cannot  guess  everything." 

"  What  else  you  have  done  !  "  And  down 
crashed  the  Pastor's  fist  on  the  table.  "Is  it 
not  enough  to  have  written  a  letter,  to  have 
tried  to  entrap  a  man  who  belonged  to  another, 
to  have  insulted  a  woman  whose  only  fault 
was  her  love  ?  What  you  have  done  ?  You 
have  driven  this  woman  to  despair,  so  that  in 
desperation  she  committed  the  most  fatal 
error.  For  she  went  to  Karlstad,  told  the  Bishop 
the  whole  tale,  and  begged  for  help.  Whereupon 
the  Bishop  takes  her  part,  and  writes  to  Lilie- 
crona  that  now,  when  he  intends  to  enter  on  a 
more  important  charge,  he  must  be  less  easily 
satisfied  with  his  own  conduct.  And  he  gives 
him  to  understand  that  he  cannot  be  appointed 
until  he  has  settled  his  private  affairs  in  a 
satisfactory  manner.  It  is  true  the  Bishop  has 
written  as  kindly  and  tactfully  as  possible,  but 
Pastor  Liliecrona  is  a  proud  and  hasty  man 
and  he  has  felt  shamed  and  insulted  to  the 
last  degree.  If  nothing  had  been  done  in  the 
matter,  there  was  reason  to  hope  that  his 
natural  kindness  of  heart  would  have  won 
the  day,  that  he  would  have  conquered  the 
fleeting  passion  which  had  overcome  him,  and 


228  Liliecrona's  Home 

that  of  his  own  free  will  he  would  have  followed 
the  call  of  duty.  But  now,  when  he  feels 
himself  forced,  he  grows  desperate,  and  is 
seized  with  bitter  hatred  for  the  woman  who 
has  such  claims  upon  his  affection.  At  first  he 
says  not  a  word  either  of  his  hatred  or  of  the 
Bishop's  warning  ;  but  one  day,  about  a  month 
after  he  had  received  it,  he  goes  to  the  stable, 
harnesses  his  horse,  drives  up  to  the  door,  and 
asks  if  she  will  take  a  little  drive.  Up  she 
jumps,  snatches  up  a  handkerchief  for  her  head, 
and  sits  down  in  the  sledge  just  as  she  is,  in 
her  short  everyday  fur  jacket  and  her  stout 
shoes.  Off  goes  the  sledge,  rushing  past  one 
or  two  big  houses,  only  Finns'  it  is  true,  but  she 
feels  ashamed  and  proposes  getting  out  and 
going  home.  But  no,  the  driver  will  not  stop. 
So  she  submits  and  they  drive  into  a  desolate 
forest,  ever  faster  and  faster,  until  she  begins 
to  be  frightened  and  once  more  begs  to  get  out. 
Then  with  an  angry  look  he  tells  her  harshly 
that  she  is  driving  to  her  wedding.  They  are 
on  the  way  to  the  Vastmarken  Parsonage  to 
be  married.  She  thinks  he  is  joking  and  sits 
quiet  for  a  little  while,  and  then  once  more 
begs  him  to  let  her  get  out  and  go  home.  With 
a  jerk  the  horse  is  pulled  up,  and  she  is  told  she 
is  at  liberty  to  leave  the  sledge  if  she  pleases, 
but  if  she  does,  she  may  give  up  all  hope  of 
ever  being  married.  He  intends  now  to  go  to 
Vastmarken  and  marry  her,  but  if  she  does  not 
seize  this  opportunity  he  will  never  give  her 
another.  When  she  replies  that  they  cannot 
possibly  be  married  until  the  banns  are  called, 


The  Accusation  229 

he  tells  her  that  has  already  been  done,  without 
her  knowledge,  in  her  native  parish,  and  tells 
her,  too,  with  such  a  terrible  face  and  manner, 
that  in  her  fright  she  nearly  gets  out.  But  she 
bethinks  herself  that  this  would  be  to  lose  all 
the  joy  of  life,  and  keeps  her  place.  She  is 
full  of  doubt  all  the  way,  knowing  how  great 
the  hatred  must  be  that  forces  her  to  be  married 
without  a  proper  wedding-dress.  Even  in  the 
church  before  the  altar  she  almost  says  "  No," 
but  she  will  not  give  up  the  man  she  loves  to 
the  writer  of  that  letter,  of  those  abominable 
lines  that  have  been  the  cause  of  all  the  misery. 
No  doubt,  too,  she  hopes  that  his  hatred  will 
lessen  in  time,  and  that  she  will  be  able  to 
reconcile  him  and  win  back  his  affection. 
But  she  is  wrong  in  this,  for  she  is  really  hated 
with  a  terrible  hatred.  Soon  she  learns  that 
her  husband  has  made  up  his  mind  and  declined 
the  valuable  living,  and  she  understands  that 
he  has  done  so  to  compel  her  to  drag  on  a  life 
of  poverty,  for  he  grudges  her  any  happiness 
that  might  come  from  a  position  of  comfort 
and  respect.  Nor  is  this  all.  She  soon  notices 
something  far  worse,  and  that  is  that  he  is 
going  to  ruin  himself  in  every  way.  She  notices 
that  he  is  beginning  to  drink  without  any 
moderation,  and,  beg  and  pray  as  she  may,  it 
is  all  of  no  avail.  She  cannot  disguise  from 
herself  that  life  no  longer  holds  a  single  joy 
for  him.  He  pays  no  heed  even  to  his  poor 
parishioners ;  his  one  idea  is  to  fail  utterly, 
to  go  to  ruin.  Think  now  how  a  very  fine  work 
is  stopped  and  a  very  good  man  turned  into  a 


230  Liliecrona's  Home 

wild  beast !  And  all  this  the  result  of  a  foolish 
girl's  thoughtlessness  !  Perhaps  now  she  can 
understand  what  she  has  done.  Above  all, 
perhaps  she  can  now  understand  that  she 
would  do  well  to  own  that  she  wrote  the  note 
in  the  delirium  of  her  foolish  love.  For  if  not, 
then  her  father  will  be  forced  to  believe  that  she 
wrote  it  in  a  devilish  intrigue  to  ruin  Liliecrona, 
so  that  his  place  in  Sjoskoga  might  be  gained 
by  one  to  whom  she  was  more  nearly  related. 
And  then  she  would  never  be  forgiven  nor  be 
called  his  daughter  any  more." 

All  the  time  she  stood  listening  to  her  father's 
words  Maia  Lisa  was  thinking  how  she  could 
possibly  convince  him  that  she  had  not  written 
the  note.  Alas,  if  on  any  other  occasion  she 
had  heard  this  tale  told  with  such  eloquence, 
how  it  would  have  moved  her  !  But  now  she 
could  only  think  of  the  injustice  done  her,  and 
that  not  by  her  father  alone.  She  did  not  heed 
the  poor  wife,  but  she  did  think  of  the  man 
who  had  come  with  her  to  make  the  accusation. 
He,  too,  believed  in  her  guilt,  believed  that  she 
had  written  to  beg  for  a  man  who  belonged  to 
another. 

She  turned  suddenly  from  her  father  and 
looked  at  Liliecrona. 

His  eyes  had  not  been  fixed  on  her,  but  he 
started  as  if  he  felt  her  glance.  He  had  been 
looking  very  sad  indeed,  but  now  the  kindly 
smile  suddenly  passed  over  his  face  and  he 
looked  at  her  reassuringly,  as  at  a  child  who 
has  played  a  foolish  trick  and  as  though  he 
wanted  to  ask  her  to  be  comforted,  for  no  great 


The  Accusation  231 

harm  was  done.  But  in  a  second  he  looked 
away  again. 

She  turned  impatiently  from  him,  and  whilst 
her  father  went  on  speaking,  her  eyes  sought 
her  grandmother.  And  Fru  Beata's  eyes  met 
hers  very  seriously,  and  with  almost  the  same 
expression  as  Liliecrona's,  an  expression  plainly 
saying,  "  Be  sensible  now  and  don't  be  afraid," 
and  she  too  looked  away  again  in  a  second 
in  the  same  direction  as  Lliecrona  had 
done. 

Then  Maia  Lisa  looked  there  too  and  saw 
they  were  both  intently  watching  her  step- 
mother. Fru  Raklitz  seemed  strangely  altered. 
She  was  deathly  pale,  and  her  eyes  had  much 
the  same  wild  look  as  on  the  morning  when 
Maia  Lisa  first  met  her.  It  was  evident  that 
she  was  overcome  by  a  terrible  fear.  For  a 
moment  the  Pastor's  daughter  wondered  if  her 
stepmother  had  written  the  note  herself,  but 
only  for  a  moment,  for  she  remembered  that 
Fru  Raklitz  could  not  write.  Neither  was  her 
fright  to  be  wondered  at,  for  the  Pastor's 
wrath  was  quite  unnatural  and  she  had  every 
reason  to  fear  how  it  might  end.  It  was  really 
a  good  thing  that  Maia  Lisa  had  looked  at  her 
stepmother,  for  the  sight  reminded  her  that  she 
must  be  careful  not  to  irritate  her  father.  In 
perfect  silence  she  listened  to  the  very  end,  and 
when  he  cried  that  he  would  disown  her  as  his 
daughter,  she  answered  quite  humbly  :  "  Dear 
father,  do  as  you  wish  with  me.  If  I  may  no 
longer  live  under  my  father's  roof  then  I 
must  .  ." 


2  32  Liliecrona's  Home 

She  was  interrupted  by  Fru  Pastor  Liliecrona, 
who  stepped  up  to  her  quickly,  and,  as  she 
seized  her  hand,  cried  in  a  tone  of  misery  that 
this  must  be  the  end  of  the  matter.  Neither 
she  nor  her  brother-in-law  had  ever  meant 
any  mention  to  be  made  of  that  letter.  They 
had  only  shown  it  to  the  Pastor  to  prove  that 
his  daughter  really  loved  Liliecrona.  She  had 
come  on  quite  a  different  errand.  She  had 
gone  to  Henriksberg  yesterday  because  she 
was  in  such  despair.  She  could  not  bear 
Liliecrona  to  go  to  ruin  on  her  account,  so  she 
had  wished  to  ask  his  brother  if  there  were  no 
possibility  of  his  being  freed  from  her.  She 
wanted  to  offer  him  his  liberty ;  she  would  never 
come  into  his  sight  again  if  only  she  were 
certain  that  he  could  have  the  wife  he  loved. 
And  it  was  to  talk  of  this  that  she  had  come  here 
with  his  brother.  They  did  not  mean  any  ill  to 
Mamsell  Maia  Lisa.  All  they  wanted  was  to 
get  her  to  help  them  to  save  the  man  who 
was  on  the  road  to  ruin. 

The  Pastor's  daughter  turned  to  her,  and  in 
a  moment  she  realised  what  a  splendid  young 
man  Pastor  Liliecrona  had  been  and  how 
terribly  unhappy  his  wife  must  feel.  Her  heart 
once  more  beat  with  her  usual  gentle  kindness, 
and  with  a  trembling  voice  she  answered : 
"  But  alas,  that  I  could  not  do.  Help  him, 
indeed,  if  I  had  the  power — but  I  could  never 
marry  him.  He  is  not  the  man  I  love." 

She  felt  how  the  hot  blood  rushed  over  her 
face  and  neck.  She  had  spoken  as  if  there 
were  someone  she  did  love. 


The  Accusation  233 

With  an  impatient  gesture  her  father  waved 
her  words  aside.  "  You  have  surely  not  ..." 

But  here  he  was  interrupted  by  grandmother, 
who,  from  her  far-away  arm-chair,  said  :  "  Dear 
son,  how  inconsiderately  you  treat  Maia  Lisa 
this  evening.  You  know  very  well  that  no  maid 
of  seventeen  years  will  ever  confess  her  love, 
least  of  all  before  so  many  hearers.  You  ought 
to  have  spoken  privately  to  Maia  Lisa,  and 
then  she  would  not  have  refused  to  explain 
everything." 

The  Pastor's  daughter  could  not  help  turning 
and  looking  at  her  grandmother.  There  was 
such  a  meaning  tone  in  her  voice  and  she 
almost  thought  she  was  trying  to  give  her  some 
private  hint.  "  You  treat  this  matter  so  vio- 
lently, dear  son,"  continued  grandmother,  "  be- 
cause you  think  it  implicates  you  as  well. 
But  you  must  not  imagine  that  anyone  will 
ever  dream  that  you  had  a  finger  in  it.  Every- 
one knows  you  would  not  do  a  thing  to  harm 
Pastor  Liliecrona  so  that  you  might  get  the 
important  living  yourself."  A  deep  silence 
rilled  the  room,  no  one  knew  what  to  answer. 

"  I  think  Maia  Lisa  may  very  well  own  to 
having  written  the  letter,  and  that  you,  dear  son, 
may  forgive  her.  Everyone  understands  that 
she  did  it  from  youth  and  inexperience,  never 
guessing  that  it  could  have  such  terrible  con- 
sequences." 

Maia  Lisa  saw  that  her  grandmother  was  urg- 
ing her  to  take  the  guilt  on  her  own  shoulders, 
but  she  did  not  understand  why  she  wished  her 
to  do  so.  At  last  the  old  lady  made  a  slight 


234  Liliecrona's  Home 

movement  with  one  hand  to  call  her  attention 
to  her  stepmother.  Fru  Raklitz  still  sat  crouch- 
ing in  the  same  mortal  fear  and  now  Maia 
Lisa  understood.  Her  grandmother  believed 
her  stepmother  had  sent  the  note  herself,  and 
saw  that  it  was  better  for  her  father  to  think 
Maia  Lisa  had  sinned  from  love  and  inex- 
perience than  that  his  wife  had  done  so  from 
the  basest  of  motives.  Ah  me  !  such  a  demand 
seemed  too  terribly  hard  for  Maia  Lisa.  And 
in  her  uncertainty  she  looked  round  and  cast 
a  stolen  glance  at  the  man  still  standing  quietly 
by  the  bookcase.  She  thought  he  met  her 
glance  with  tender  sympathy,  but  that  must 
have  been  a  mistake,  for  he  could  not  fail  to 
hate  her. 

"  Dear  Father,"  said  Maia  Lisa,  "forgive  me 
for  denying  it.  But  you  terrified  me  ..." 

But  as  she  spoke  she  was  overcome  by  a 
sense  of  the  wrong  she  was  doing  herself  in 
owning  to  such  a  base  and  horrible  deed. 
She  burst  into  tears  and  threw  herself  into  her 
grandmother's  arms  with  the  cry,  "It  is  too 
hard,  I  really  cannot." 

"  Yes,  of  course,"  said  the  old  lady.  "  It 
was  hard,  I  know,  but  it  is  said  now.  Come 
down  to  my  room  and  have  your  cry  out." 
She  put  her  arm  round  her  waist  and  led  her 
to  the  door,  still  sobbing  and  repeating  that  she 
could  not  do  it.  "  You  need  not  say  any 
more,"  said  Fru  Beata  ;  "  your  father  under- 
stands it  all ;  after  all,  you  are  but  a  child." 

When  they  reached  the  threshold  Liliecrona 
came  back  to  life  again.  He  hurried  forward 


The  Accusation  235 

and  opened  the  door  for  Fru  Beata,  and  when 
he  saw  the  hall  door  was  shut  he  went  with 
them  and  opened  it  as  well.  That  done,  he 
noticed  the  front  steps  were  steep  and  diffi- 
cult for  an  old  lady  and  so  was  the  slope 
down  to  the  brewhouse.  So  he  came  too,  and 
gave  a  helping  hand  to  grandmother.  Then 
there  was  the  horrid  stair  to  her  room,  and  again 
he  must  go  all  the  way.  When  they  got  inside 
her  room,  he  said  not  a  word,  but  threw  his 
arms  round  Fru  Beata  and  kissed  her  cheek, 
then  turned  to  Maia  Lisa,  took  her  in  his  arms, 
and  kissed  her  also. 

Not  a  word  did  he  say,  and  was  gone  in  a 
moment.  But  everything  this  man  did,  always 
came  so  suddenly,  just  when  it  was  least  ex- 
pected, that  there  was  never  any  chance  of 
being  prepared  to  prevent  it. 

After  all,  it  was  Little-Maid  and  no  one  else 
who  settled  the  matter  at  last.  The  strangers 
took  leave  and  went  their  way  the  moment 
Mamsell  Maia  Lisa  had  gone  with  her  grand- 
mother to  her  room  in  the  brewhouse.  The 
Pastor  could  not  have  felt  very  well,  for  he 
did  not  leave  his  chair  to  take  them  to  the  front 
steps  and  say  farewell.  As  soon  as  they  had 
gone  his  wife  came  and  told  him  she  had  put 
some  supper  in  the  best  parlour,  for  she  thought 
he  must  need  a  little  refreshment  after  all  he 
had  gone  through.  But  he  only  asked  to  be 
left  in  peace  and  quiet.  It  was  Saturday 
evening,  and  he  had  to  finish  writing  his  sermon. 

So  he  took  his  papers  out  of  his  desk  and 
scribbled  a  couple  of  lines,  but  no  more,  before 


2  36  Liliecrona's  Home 

he  threw  down  his  pen,  pushed  back  his  chair, 
and  walked  up  and  down  the  room.  Then  he 
lay  down  on  the  corner  sofa,  and  the  room 
grew  so  silent  that  Little-Maid  began  to  wonder 
if  he  had  fallen  asleep.  The  cupboard  door 
was  cracked  and  she  could  see  he  was  lying  on 
the  sofa,  but  not  if  his  eyes  were  closed  or  not. 
If  only  she  could  have  been  certain  he  was 
asleep  she  would  have  tried  to  creep  away,  for 
she  was  desperately  tired  of  being  shut  up  in 
the  narrow  cupboard.  Besides,  how  essential 
it  was  she  should  be  free  to  talk  with  the 
Pastor's  daughter  and  Fru  Beata.  She  could 
give  them  some  information  that  they  would 
be  glad  to  hear. 

The  Pastor  had  lain  quiet  so  long  that  he 
could  not  possibly  be  awake,  so  she  thought 
she  might  at  least  venture  to  open  just  a  chink 
to  see  how  things  were.  The  door  moved  without 
a  sound,  but  the  Pastor  was  not  sleeping,  only 
lying  with  his  eyes  fixed  on  the  opposite  wall. 
Just  as  Little-Maid  was  going  to  close  the  door 
again  he  turned  his  eyes  in  that  direction  and 
caught  sight  of  her. 

He  got  up  and  came  to  the  cupboard.  There 
was  nothing  for  Little-Maid  to  do  but  to  open 
the  door  and  step  out.  "  What  is  the  meaning 
of  this  ?  "  asked  the  Pastor.  '  What  business 
have  you  in  my  cupboard  ?  " 

His  face  was  so  stern  that  Little-Maid  grew 
frightened.  The  Pastor  and  she  had  always 
been  good  friends  indeed  ;  she  liked  him  better 
than  anyone  in  the  house,  except,  of  course, 
Mamsell  Maia  Lisa.  She  did  not  want  him 


The  Accusation  237 

to  think  any  ill  of  her,  so  she  hastened  to  tell 
him  that  the  Pastor's  wife  had  shut  her  up  in 
the  cupboard  when  he  and  the  strangers  had 
been  in  the  parlour.  They  had  only  come  in 
to  fetch  his  Sunday  clothes. 

The  Pastor  stood  thinking  and  then  said, 
"  You  may  just  as  well  tell  the  truth  ;  the 
matter  cannot  be  worse  than  it  is ;  it  was,  of 
course,  Maia  Lisa  and  not  my  wife  who  shut 
you  in." 

Little-Maid  was  so  offended  that  she  could 
scarcely  get  out  her  words.  "  Mamsell  Maia 
Lisa  !  "  she  said.  "  The  Pastor's  daughter 
shut  me  up  in  a  cupboard  to  stand  there  and 
listen  ?  She  wouldn't  stoop  to  such  a  thing." 

The  Pastor  sighed.  "  There  isn't  much  she 
wouldn't  stoop  to  now,"  he  said.  '  You  needn't 
think  I  shall  be  any  more  vexed  with  you  if 
you  own  that  it  was  Maia  Lisa  who  shut  you  in. 
I  shall  not  be  angry  with  you  for  that  or  any- 
thing else  if  only  you  will  tell  the  truth." 

Little-Maid  knew  very  well  that  no  untrue 
word  had  passed  her  lips  since  she  had  been 
at  Lovdala,  and  said  so  too.  But  the  Pastor 
did  not  seem  to  hear.  "  Of  course,  I  see  that 
Maia  Lisa  had  good  reason  to  be  afraid,"  he 
said.  "  I  can  understand  how  she  asked  you 
to  get  in  and  listen  to  what  we  were  saying. 
But  the  matter  in  no  way  concerned  my 
wife." 

Little-Maid  stood  in  utter  silence.  She  did 
not  know  what  to  say,  for  she  had  been  strictly 
forbidden  by  Mamsell  Maia  Lisa  ever  to  tell 
the  Pastor  any  tales  about  his  wife.  And  her 


238  Liliecrona's  Home 

mother  had  told  her  not  to  as  well.  It  was  not 
the  same  here  as  in  Svanskog,  where  she  was 
free  to  say  anything  she  pleased.  When  she 
did  not  answer,  the  Pastor  took  it  for  granted 
that  he  was  right  in  what  he  thought,  and  ordered 
her  to  go  away.  She  was  on  her  way  towards 
the  door  when  he  called  her  back.  Something 
else  had  struck  him  that  he  wanted  to  ask  her 
about. 

"  Listen  now,"  he  said.  "  Since  you  are  in 
the  habit  of  doing  such  errands  for  Maia  Lisa, 
perhaps  it  was  you  too  who  helped  her  to  write 
that  letter.  It  is  in  a  child's  hand,  and  you  can 
both  read  and  write,  can't  you  ?  " 

"  I  have  never  written  any  letter  for  Mamsell 
Maia  Lisa,"  answered  Little-Maid,  "  but  I 
wrote  one  for  the  Pastor's  wife." 

"  Oh,  indeed;  you  wrote  one  for  my  wife," 
said  the  Pastor ;  "  but  never  for  Maia  Lisa." 
And  it  was  evident  from  his  tone  that  he  did 
not  believe  her,  any  more  than  before.  Perhaps 
you  remember  what  was  in  the  letter  that  my 
wife  got  you  to  write  ?  ' 

Little-Maid  answered  that  she  could  say  it 
word  for  word  if  the  Pastor  wished,  and  he 
bade  her  try. 

"  I  have  really  no  business  to  write,"  she 
began  to  repeat,  "  but  I  venture  to  beg  you, 
dear  madam,  to  consider  what  you  are  doing. 
Pastor  Liliecrona  has  now  found  someone  who 
will  make  him  happy.  If  you  will  go  away  of 
your  own  free  will  they  will  always  be  grateful 
and  their  future  happiness  will  be  secured. 
You  must  remember,  madam,  that  the  new 


The  Accusation  239 

parish  has  a  right  to  demand  a  Pastor's  wife 
of  unblemished  name." 

The  Pastor  threw  up  his  hands.  '  That's 
enough,"  he  said,  fixing  a  long  and  piercing 
glance  upon  her.  "  And  that  is  what  you  wrote 
for  my  wife  ?  ''' 

"  Yes,"  answered  Little-Maid  without  a 
moment's  hesitation.  The  Pastor's  wife  had 
forbidden  her  to  tell  that  she  was  teaching  her 
to  read  and  write,  but  she  had  not  said  a  word 
about  this  letter. 

The  Pastor  only  shrugged  his  shoulders. 
"  Now  you  can  see  you  are  telling  a  lie,"  he 
said  in  a  weary  tone.  "  You  were  standing  in 
the  cupboard  all  the  time,  and,  of  course,  you 
heard  that  Maia  Lisa  owned  to  writing  it 
herself." 

Little-Maid  felt  how  red  she  grew.  She 
thought  she  really  couldn't  endure  this;  it 
vexed  her  so  that  the  Pastor  should  think 
she  was  telling  a  lie.  "  You  can  go,"  he  went 
on.  "I  could  not  understand  at  first  how  it 
was  the  letter  was  not  in  Maia  Lisa's  hand- 
writing, but  now  this  too  is  explained.  You 
can  go  and  tell  her  that." 

But  Little-Maid  did  not  go.  "  It  was  the 
Pastor's  wife  who  made  me  write  the  letter," 
she  said.  "  And  it  was  the  Pastor's  wife  who 
shut  me  in  the  cupboard." 

"  Have  you  and  Maia  Lisa  agreed  to  say  that?" 
The  Pastor  began  to  look  angry,  and  she  saw  she 
would  be  driven  out  if  she  could  not  think  of 
some  way  of  convincing  him.  As  she  looked 
round  helplessly  in  every  direction,  she  caught 


240  Liliecrona's  Home 

sight  of  the  old  crofter-woman  just  passing 
the  window.  "  See,  there  goes  the  messenger 
who  was  sent  to  Svanskog  with  the  letter,"  she 
said.  "  You  could  ask  her  whether  it  was  the 
Pastor's  wife  or  the  Pastor's  daughter  who 
asked  her  to  take  it." 

The  Pastor  thought  of  answering  that  he 
would  hear  no  more  about  it,  but  he  felt  the 
compelling  force  of  Little-Maid's  obstinacy. 
He  got  up  and  went  to  the  door.  As  he  hastily 
opened  it  he  stumbled  against  someone  who 
was  standing  very  close  to  it,  and  that  some- 
one was  his  wife.  He  glanced  at  her,  stopped 
and  looked  again  as  though  to  be  quite  sure 
that  it  really  was  her,  then  went  out  to  the 
steps  and  asked  the  old  peasant  woman  one 
or  two  questions.  When  he  came  back,  Fru 
Raklitz  had  gone.  He  sat  down  by  the  writing- 
table  and  called  up  Little-Maid.  "  Now  you 
shall  tell  me  how  everything  happened  when  you 
wrote  the  letter,"  he  said.  And  Little-Maid 
told  her  tale  so  clearly  that  he  could  not  have 
a  shadow  of  doubt  any  longer. 

"  I  see  I  have  done  you  injustice,  Nora  Storm- 
wind,"  said  the  Pastor,  "  and  now  as  a  reward 
you  may  go  down  and  tell  Maia  Lisa  all  about 
it." 

Little-Maid  needed  no  second  bidding.  A 
moment  after  she  was  down  in  the  brewhouse 
room  where  there  was  nothing  but  sorrow  and 
weeping,  telling  all  her  tale.  At  first  the 
Pastor's  daughter  scarcely  listened,  but  at 
last  she  understood  that  her  father  knew  the 
truth  now,  and  then  she  sprang  to  her  feet. 


The  Accusation  241 

"Grandmother,  grandmother!"  she  cried,  "I 
mutt  go  and  see  how  he  is."  But  at  that 
moment  the  door  opened  and  her  father  stood 
on  the  threshold.  And  no  longer  the  same 
father  as  to-day  and  yesterday,  but  the  father 
of  bygone  years,  a  dear  loving  father  who  stood 
waiting  for  her  there  with  outstretched  arms. 


CHAPTER    XVI 

THE   REST   STONE 

A  FEW  days  after  the  great  upstir,  Maia  Lisa 
was  out  at  the  usual  time  walking  with 
Little-Maid  along  the  road.  This  evening  she 
was  not  walking  along  with  dragging  footsteps, 
depressed  in  mind  and  weak  in  body,  for  instead 
of  only  one  there  were  two  to  call  out  to  echo, 
two  to  dig  for  mica  in  the  sand-pit,  two  to 
dam  up  the  brook,  and  two  to  gather  anemones 
in  the  copse.  She  had  not  quite  heart  enough 
yet  to  tease  the  owl  though,  so  she  left  Little- 
Maid  at  the  big  birch  tree  and  went  on  alone 
up  the  Rest  Stone  hill.  The  bird  must  have 
been  more  sociable  than  usual  that  day,  for 
Little  Maid  did  not  join  her  again  at  the  haunted 
wall,  nor  afterwards  either. 

When  Maia  Lisa  had  come  far  enough  to  see 
the  Rest  Stone  she  suddenly  stopped,  for  there 
sat  a  man,  not  in  the  narrow  hollowed-out  seat, 
but  right  on  the  top  of  the  stone  itself.  His 
back  was  bent  and  IMS  chin  propped  in  his 
hands ;  his  eyes,  however,  were  not  fixed  on  the 
ground,  but  were  looking  away  up  into  the  tree- 
tops.  He  was  busy  whistling  to  a  thrush  perched 
on  a  tall  pine  across  the  road,  and  he  answered  it 
and  gave  it  back  note  for  note  until  it  sang  as 

242 


The  Rest  Stone  243 

though  its  throat  would  burst.  So  intent  were 
they  on  their  game,  both  man  and  bird,  that 
they  never  heard  her  coming.  She  stood  still 
for  a  moment  listening  and  looking  at  him 
with  amazement.  When  she  had  met  him 
before,  he  must  most  certainly  have  been 
weighed  down  with  sorrow.  Never  until  that 
evening  had  she  thought  that  he  could  not  be 
more  than  twenty-five  years  old.  Now  he 
looked  like  a  very  boy.  She  was  so  astonished 
at  this  that  she  could  not  refrain  from  a  merry 
laugh. 

He  turned  his  head  to  one  side  to  listen,  and 
looked  at  the  same  time  towards  another  tree- 
top,  as  if  he  thought  the  sound  was  coming 
from  there.  Then  Maia  Lisa  laughed  again 
and  now  he  heard  what  it  was.  Down  he  jumped 
from  the  stone,  and  with  eager  steps  came  to 
meet  her.  He  had  just  been  waiting  for  her, 
he  said.  He  had  been  to  her  friend  Britta  in 
Lobyn  to  ask  her  how  he  could  manage  to  see 
Mamsell  Maia  Lisa  by  herself,  and  Britta  had 
told  him  that  she  was  in  the  habit  of  coming 
here  to  the  Rest  Stone  every  evening. 

Her  heart  began  to  beat  very  fast  as  if  it 
expected  some  great  happiness.  Dear,  dear! 
how  could  it  be  so  foolish  ?  It  might  have 
known  by  now  that  he  had  come  on  no  pleasant 
business.  No  doubt  he  was  going  to  speak 
about  his  brother;  probably  repeat  his  sister- 
in-law's  proposal  under  more  favourable  cir- 
cumstances. And  it  was  as  she  thought.  He 
led  her  with  some  ceremony  to  the  Rest  Stone 
and  helped  her  up  where  he  had  been  sitting, 


244  Liliecrona's  Home 

whilst  he  himself  remained  standing  on  the 
path.  Then  he  began  to  ask  her  very  seriously 
if  it  was  really  a  fact  that  she  did  not  care  for 
his  brother. 

And  here  again,  as  in  Svanskog,  she  did  not 
know  why  she  felt  at  once  both  touched  and 
angry,  nor  why  her  anger  won  the  day  so  that 
she  answered  very  sharply  that  she  did  not 
understand  why  he  troubled  to  ask.  Surely 
he  did  not  imagine  that  she  could  not  be  in  his 
brother's  company  a  couple  of  hours  without 
falling  in  love  with  him !  He  did  not  seem  in 
the  least  put  out  by  her  annoyance.  It  was 
incredible  that  just  before  he  had  been  sitting 
there  whistling  to  a  thrush,  for  now  he  seemed 
as  serious  as  if  he  had  some  important  business 
on  hand  and  had  thought  beforehand  of  every 
word  he  meant  to  say.  No  doubt  he  looked 
like  that  when  he  was  selling  iron  or  striking 
a  bargain  with  the  coal-drivers. 

He  begged  her  not  to  think  him  impertinent, 
but  he  had  asked  because  he  must  know  if  her 
heart  was  free  before  he  went  any  further. 
She  was  seized  with  an  irresistible  desire  to 
tease  him  and  break  down  his  air  of  certainty. 
"  It  isn't  a  foregone  conclusion,"  she  inter- 
rupted, "  that  my  heart  is  free  because  I  do 
not  care  for  Pastor  Liliecrona.  Yhere  may  be 
others.  .  .  ." 

He  bowed  a  little  scornfully.  "That  is  all 
right,"  he  said ;  "  and  if  there  is  the  least 
prospect  that  the  one  whom  Mamsell  Maia  Lisa 
is  thinking  of  is  likely  to  come  and  claim  her 
hand,  I  will  not  go  on." 


The  Rest  Stone  245 

The  hot  blood  rushed  to  her  cheeks,  but  she 
looked  straight  into  his  sorrowful  eyes  as  she 
answered  :  "  No,  there  is  not  the  least  pros- 
pect." 

"  In  that  case  I  would  like  to  ask  Mamsell 
Maia  Lisa  for  advice,"  he  said  as  he  took 
from  his  note-book  a  sealed  and  folded  letter 
which  he  held  so  that  she  could  not  see  the 
address.  "  Would  Mamsell  Maia  Lisa  advise 
me  to  post  this  or  to  tear  it  up  ?  " 

Maia  Lisa  made  no  answer.  She  could  not 
help  thinking  of  the  morning  when  he  jumped 
down  into  the  fox-pit.  Then  it  was  a  blow 
here,  a  blow  there,  and  all  done  in  the  twinkling 
of  an  eye.  "  Why  can't  he  jump  quickly  and 
strike  his  blow  so  that  I  may  know  what  he 
means?  What  is  the  reason  of  all  this  cere- 
mony ?  '' 

"  This  letter,  Mamsell  Maia  Lisa,"  he  con- 
tinued, and  his  voice  grew,  if  possible,  still 
colder  and  more  business-like  than  before, 
"  is  written  by  a  young  man  who  a  few  years 
back  stood  at  the  grave  of  his  heart's  love  and 
vowed  to  go  through  life  alone  for  her  dear 
sake.  Since  then  the  young  man  has  never 
thought  for  a  moment  of  breaking  his  vow, 
indeed  he  has  never  even  felt  the  slightest 
temptation  to  do  so.  He  has  left  his  heart  in 
the  loved  one's  grave  and  it  cannot  live  again. 
But,  Mamsell  Maia  Lisa,  a  few  months  ago, 
this  young  man  found  a  poor  child  sitting  lonely 
and  desolate.  In  her  eyes  he  read  the  mingled 
gentleness  and  humility  of  her  heart,  and  was 
even  more  astounded  by  her  strange  likeness 


246  Liliecrona's  Home 

to  his  lost  love.  He  felt  at  once  the  greatest 
sympathy  and  seemed  to  hear  the  voice  of  her 
whom  he  had  lost  whispering  that  he  must 
help  in  her  loneliness  the  young  girl  who  was 
her  very  image.  The  young  man  tried  to  bring 
her  into  union  with  the  noblest  man  he  knew — 
his  own  brother.  He  saw  them  meet,  saw  them 
sit  together  on  the  same  hearth,  saw  visions 
of  the  greatest  happiness  for  them  both,  when 
these  visions  were  destroyed  by  the  most  un- 
happy circumstances.  His  brother  was  first 
thrown  into  the  most  terrible  misery,  and,  in 
the  attempt  that  was  made  to  save  him,  the 
young  girl  was  brought  without  any  fault  of 
hers  into  a  position  of  the  greatest  difficulty. 
Every  day  now  the  young  man  seemed  to  hear 
the  voice  of  his  lost  love  calling  to  him  from 
the  grave  at  least  to  offer  the  maid  a  share  in 
his  home,  where  he  would  try  with  the  tenderest 
care  to  secure  her  happiness,  and  where  she 
would  be  safely  guarded  from  the  cruel  hand 
that  now  oppressed  her.  Under  these  cir- 
cumstances, dearest  Mamsell  Maia  Lisa,  the 
young  man  wrote  this  letter.  He  meant  to 
send  it  off  this  morning,  but  then  he  hesitated. 
He  felt,  Mamsell  Maia  Lisa,  he  must  first  hear 
your  opinion."  He  stopped  and  with  his  last 
word  laid  the  letter  down  upon  her  lap,  so 
that  she  could  read  the  address  :  "To  the 
Learned  and  Reverend  Assistant  Pastor,  Heir 
Erik  Lyselius." 

Never,  no  never  in  all  her  life  had  Maia  Lisa 
felt  so  humiliated.  When  he  had  done  what 
she  never  expected,  when  he  had  asked  for  her 


The  Rest  Stone  247 

hand,  to  think  he  had  done  it  in  this  fashion  ! 
Simply  because  he  was  sorry  for  her  ! 

Her  first  impulse  was  to  jump  up,  tear  the 
letter  into  fragments  and  throw  them  in  his 
face.  She  was  more  angry  with  him  than  she 
had  been  with  her  father  when  he  married 
Raklitz.  And  the  thought  flashed  through  hei 
mind  :  "I  am  evidently  made  so  that  I  cannot 
be  really  angry  except  with  those  I  love."  But 
Maia  Lisa  had  gone  through  much  since  the 
day  when  she  had  flared  up  at  her  father  and 
his  wife  and  could  now  restrain  herself  in  quite 
another  way.  She  only  slipped  down  from  the 
stone,  let  the  letter  fall  to  the  ground,  and  began 
to  go  down  the  hill  without  a  word. 

And  she  walked  on  a  good  way,  right  up  to 
the  stone  wall,  without  anyone  following  her. 
And  as  she  walked  she  noticed  what  a  beautiful 
evening  it  was.  The  birds  were  singing  in  the 
trees,  the  midges  dancing  in  the  breeze,  the 
sunbeams  playing  on  the  fresh  young  leaves, 
the  streams  rippling  and  murmuring  beside 
the  path,  whilst  plants  and  grass  were  sprouting 
on  every  hand,  so  gay  and  green  that  she 
almost  thought  she  could  hear  them  growing. 
But  all  this  only  seemed  to  increase  her  wrath. 
Surely  he  might  have  understood  that  on  such 
an  evening  he  ought  to  come  in  the  right  way 
if  he  was  coming  at  all.  If  only  he  had  had  the 
sense  to  let  it  alone.  She  would  have  been  less 
unhappy  just  walking  and  thinking  of  him. 

He  might  have  had  the  sense,  too,  to  find  out 
how  things  were  with  her  before  he  put  this 
shame  upon  her.  If  he  had  known  that  she 


248  Lilieciona's  Home 

was  reconciled  with  her  father  and  that  her 
stepmother  had  run  away  the  very  day  that 
he  and  Fru  Beata  Liliecrona  had  come  to 
Lovdala,  run  away  without  a  word  and  never 
come  back  again,  perhaps  he  might  have 
spared  his  pity.  But  in  any  case  it  would  have 
made  no  difference.  If  she  had  been  in  the 
greatest  distress  she  would  have  been  just  as 
angry  with  him  for  asking  her  to  marry  out  of 
pity  only.  She  would  not  have  been  so  angry 
with  anyone  else,  not  even  with  his  brother, 
if  he  had  done  the  same. 

Suddenly  she  stopped.  Why  was  she  so 
angry  with  him  ?  The  answer  came  like  a 
revelation.  Surely  because  she  loved  him  ! 

Yes,  oh  yes !  This  then  was  love.  She  had 
read  of  it  in  her  books,  sung  of  it  in  her  songs, 
but  never  before  had  she  felt  it  in  her  own  heart. 
No  doubt  it  had  lain  smouldering,  a  tiny  spark 
within  her  soul,  all  the  spring,  but  she  had  not 
recognised  it.  Now  love  shot  through  her  like 
a  consuming  fire  until  she  almost  wondered 
that  its  brightness  did  not  shine  through  and 
around  her.  She  turned  round.  Everything 
was  so  changed  in  a  moment.  Love  burnt  in 
her  heart  and  since  that  miracle  had  happened 
she  was  no  longer  the  same.  She  could  not 
keep  her  anger  against  the  man  who  had  taught 
her  what  love  was. 

He  had  followed  her  and  was  close  behind, 
so  that  as  she  turned  quickly  she  found  herself 
face  to  face  with  him. 

Surely  such  a  fire  as  that  within  her  must 
be  infectious.  Its  reflection  flamed  in  his 


The  Rest  Stone  249 

eyes,  or  was  that  perhaps  not  reflection  only  ? 
It  almost  seemed  too  bright.  She  was  still  so 
inexperienced,  but  the  vehemence  with  which 
he  pressed  her  to  his  bosom  seemed  to  her  of 
the  same  nature  as  the  longing  that  drove  her 
there. 

Her  astonishment  was  so  great  that  she 
scarcely  knew  if  she  dared  to  trust  her  senses. 
But  the  words  that  he  uttered  in  broken 
sentences,  these  eager  questions  if  she  loved  him, 
this  breathless  confession  that  he  had  loved 
her  from  the  very  first  but  had  been  ashamed 
of  his  weakness,  this  angry  remorse  that  he 
had  tried  to  deceive  himself  and  run  away  from 
his  love,  this  defiant  speech  that  he  troubled 
neither  about  the  living  nor  the  dead  if  only  she 
loved  him — could  these  come  from  a  heart  not 
burning  for  her  with  the  same  fire  that  for  his 
sake  was  consuming  her  own  ? 


CHAPTER   XVII 

THE  WATER  SPIRITS   IN   LOVDALA 

P?ELAX  stood  in  the  porch,  barking  and 
±  howling  all  night  long.  Little-Maid  had 
never  heard  him  do  the  like  before,  and  not  a 
wink  could  she  sleep.  No  doubt  Mamsell  Maia 
Lisa  was  lying  awake  too,  much  as  she  needed 
a  good  night's  rest  whilst  she  was  so  delicate. 
Little-Maid  felt  she  must  try  to  quiet  the  dog. 
So  she  threw  on  her  skirt  and  jacket  and  slipped 
through  the  kitchen  into  the  hall.  Before  she 
had  managed  to  turn  all  the  locks  and  pull 
back  the  bolts  on  the  front  door  the  dog  had 
stopped,  but  she  went  out  all  the  same  to  coax 
huii  in.  It  was  strange  she  could  not  see  him. 
She  was  certain  he  had  been  in  the  porch  all 
night,  but  now,  when  she  had  had  the  trouble 
of  getting  up,  of  course  he  was  gone.  She 
went  right  out  to  the  steps  and  called  and 
called,  but  there  was  not  a  sign  of  him  any- 
where. 

It  was  a  beautiful  night.  The  sky  was  covered 
with  tiny  white  clouds  lying  in  wreaths  and 
circles  as  though  they  were  playing  some  grace- 
ful games  when  nobody  was  looking.  The  sun 
had  not  yet  managed  to  climb  up  above  the 
mountain,  but  for  all  that  it  was  broad  daylight. 

250 


The  Water  Spirits  in  Lovdala    251 

It  was  not  the  least  chilly,  but  so  soft  and 
mild  that  she  did  not  feel  cold  although  she 
had  come  out  with  bare  feet.  The  row  of  six 
great  rowans  standing  before  the  dairy,  with 
their  intermingling  branches  looking  like  a 
green  wall,  were  in  full  bloom.  The  great 
clusters  of  white  blossom  brightened  up  the 
green  background  like  stars  shining  in  their 
beauty  on  the  darkness  of  a  wintry  sky. 

Perhaps  it  was  only  in  contrast  to  the  fresh 
green  of  the  early  spring,  but  Little-Maid  thought 
the  houses  round  about  looked  one  and  all  so 
old  and  dilapidated. 

She  looked  at  the  loft  over  the  stable,  at  the 
semicircular  windows  of  the  dairy  peeping 
out  from  under  the  blackened  thatch,  and  at 
the  crooked  brewhouse  door.  It  all  looked  so 
sad  in  the  beautiful  spring  night  as  though 
it  were  sighing  over  its  age.  She  looked  at  the 
men's  house  with  its  stone  foundations,  and  at 
the  barn  standing  on  its  wooden  posts,  at  the 
many  gates  now  all  closed  and  fastened,  and 
at  the  long  rows  of  fences. 

They  were  so  old  that  they  all  hung  awry, 
and  leant  this  way  and  that.  The  roof  beams 
were  bent,  the  walls  grey  with  green  moss 
growing  in  their  crannies.  It  was  the  first  time 
that  Little-Maid  had  thought  that  the  house 
with  all  belonging  to  it  was  old  and  needed 
repair  or  even  building  afresh.  But  such 
thoughts  only  come  in  the  spring  when  trees, 
bushes,  and  fields  are  all  decked  out  in  their 
fresh  green  garments.  Perhaps  for  houses 
too  there  is  something  corresponding  to  winter 


252  Liliecrona's  Home 

and  spring,  although  they  may  not  follow  in 
such  quick  succession  as  for  trees  and  bushes. 
It  would  be  spring  for  a  house,  when  young 
people  came  to  it,  pulled  down  all  that  was  old 
and  built  it  up  anew.  And  winter,  when  the 
young  folk  grew  old  and  what  they  had  built 
was  worn  out  and  longing  for  fresh  young 
strength  to  pull  down  once  more  and  put  up 
afresh.  It  was  strange,  thought  Little-Maid, 
that  such  ideas  should  come  into  her  mind. 
But  then  the  night  was  strange  too,  so  warm 
and  close  and  full  of  mystery.  She  almost  felt 
afraid  and  was  going  to  hurry  in,  when  she 
remembered  the  dog  again. 

As  she  looked  round  on  all  sides  to  find  out 
where  he  had  got  to,  she  thought  she  saw 
something  moving  on  the  grass  plot  under  the 
rowan  trees.  Now  Little-Maid  had  lived  in  the 
depths  of  the  dark  forest  and  gone  errands  for 
her  mother  both  early  and  late,  but  she  had 
never  either  seen,  or  expected  to  see,  anything 
out  of  the  ordinary.  Mother  had  always  said 
she  need  not  be  afraid,  she  was  not  the  kind  to 
meet  either  ghost  or  troll.  All  the  same  she 
saw  something  remarkable  now,  without  a 
shadow  of  doubt.  She  was  a  little  taken  aback, 
but  not  so  easily  frightened  as  that.  Besides, 
there  was  nothing  to  be  afraid  of,  only  some 
little  people  dancing. 

There  were  just  two,  a  gentleman  and  lady, 
both  about  as  tall  as  a  six-year-old  child,  but 
very  slim  and  delicately  made.  They  were 
both  dressed  as  nobles  of  the  highest  rank,  in 
black  velvet  with  lace  and  gold  braid.  The 


The  Water  Spirits  in  Lovdala    253 

gentleman  had  a  three-cornered  hat,  a  sword 
at  his  side,  a  silk-embroidered  coat,  and  buckles 
on  his  shoes.  The  lady  wore  very  full,  short 
skirts,  red  stockings,  a  large  hat  with  feathers, 
and  carried  a  fan  in  her  hand.  They  did  nothing 
but  dance.  He  took  her  hand  and  with  up- 
lifted arms  they  tripped  forward  a  little  way, 
then  turned  and  tripped  back  again.  They 
parted,  then  met  again,  bowed,  and  last  of 
all  threw  their  arms  round  each  other  and 
waltzed  in  a  circle. 

Little-Maid  was  absolutely  certain  that  it 
was  the  most  beautiful  sight  she  had  ever  seen. 
How  pleasant  it  was  to  watch  them  as  they 
simply  flew  over  the  grass.  No  human  beings 
could  dance  like  that,  but  these  dancers  seemed 
light  as  air  itself.  Their  faces  looked  like  the 
finest  china,  and  they  had  tiny  hands  and  feet. 
How  sweet  and  delicate  they  were  to  be  sure  ! 

She  really  could  not  tear  herself  away  as  long 
as  they  kept  on  dancing,  so  there  she  stood, 
wondering  why  they  were  so  gay  and  dancing 
so  merrily  just  on  that  night.  Well,  perhaps  it 
was  not  so  much  to  be  wondered  at.  No  doubt 
they  were  the  good  tomtes  of  Lovdala,  and  were 
delighted  that  things  had  gone  back  to  the  good 
old  ways  since  Raklitz  had  run  away.  When 
Little-Maid  saw  the  dance  she  was  more  than 
ever  inclined  to  believe  the  truth  of  what  Long- 
Bengt  had  said.  He  was  the  last  to  see  Raklitz. 
He  had  met  her  late  on  Saturday  evening  down 
in  the  Black  Lake  meadows.  She  was  looking 
very  wild,  just  as  she  had  done  when  he  had 
first  seen  her,  and  he  insisted — indeed  said  he 


254  Liliecrona's  Home 

would  swear  in  any  court  of  law — that  he  had 
seen  her  go  down  into  the  waters  of  the  Black 
Lake  brook.  Perhaps  then  the  good  little 
people  were  glad  that  the  cruel,  deceitful  "  water 
spirit "  had  lost  her  power  over  Lovdala. 

What  masters  of  dancing  they  were  to  be  sure  ! 
Why  did  other  people  lie  sleeping  in  the  light 
nights  instead  of  dancing  on  the  green  grass? 
Why  were  other  folk  not  so  gay  and  happy? 
Why  oppressed  with  so  many  cares  that  they 
could  not  forget  ? 

Little-Maid  heard  a  dull  thud  in  the  house 
as  of  something  heavy  falling,  and  ran  back 
into  the  hall.  There  she  stood  listening,  but 
could  hear  nothing  more.  Still  she  was  certain 
the  noise  had  come  from  the  west  room  where 
the  Pastor  used  to  sit.  She  hurried  with  all 
the  speed  she  could  to  the  Pastor's  daughter 
and  begged  her  to  get  up,  for  the  Pastor  was 
certainly  not  well. 

Mamsell  Maia  Lisa  hastily  threw  on  some 
clothes  as  she  asked  Little-Maid  what  had 
happened.  Little-Maid  hurriedly  told  her  how 
she  had  been  standing  watching  the  two  dancers 
when  she  had  heard  a  heavy  fall. 

The  Pastor's  daughter  turned  deathly  pale. 
"  Those  two  never  come  except  when  Lovdala 
is  to  have  a  new  master,"  she  said;  "but  I 
do  not  think  anyone  has  ever  seen  them  dancing 
before." 

She  had  only  managed  to  get  on  one  shoe, 
but  she  left  off  dressing  and  hurried  to  the  west 
room. 

There  lay  the  Pastor  motionless,  full  length 


The  Water  Spirits  in  Lovdala    255 

upon  the  floor.  "  What  is  it,  dear  Father,  what 
is  it  ? "  said  the  Pastor's  daughter  as  she 
bent  down  over  him. 

In  a  second  she  looked  up  to  Little-Maid 
who  had  come  with  her.  "  Dear  Father  is  dead," 
she  said.  "  We  must  say  our  thanks  to  him 
now,  it  may  be  he  is  not  too  far  away  to  hear  us." 

She  kissed  his  hand  very  tenderly  and 
whispered  a  few  words  into  his  ear.  Then  Little- 
Maid  had  to  kiss  his  hand  too.  Then  the 
Pastor's  daughter  got  up  and  looked  round  as 
if  to  see  what  had  happened  at  the  last.  He 
had  been  sitting  at  his  writing,  for  his  pen  was 
still  wet.  No  doubt  he  had  felt  ill  whilst  he 
was  working,  and  when  he  had  risen  to  go  to 
the  bell  and  call  for  help  he  had  fallen  to  the 
ground.  His  sermon  lay  on  the  table  half 
written,  and  the  last  lines  of  trembling,  broken 
characters  straggled  across  the  page.  The 
Pastor's  daughter  read  them  in  a  low  voice  : 
"  When  the  labourer's  task  is  ended  he  longs 
for  rest,  and  rejoices  that  a  better  man  is  to 
take  his  place." 

And  the  tears  came  pouring  from  her  eyes 
as  she  said  :  "I  know  now  why  they  were 
dancing  for  dear  Father.  They  knew  he  longed 
to  go.  They  knew  he  wanted  to  be  free." 


CHAPTER    XVIII 

THE   HOME 

r  I  ^HE  Pastor's  daughter  was  sitting,  in  the 
1  kitchen  parlour  with  her  Bible  and 
Psalm-book  before  her,  searching  God's  Word 
for  comfort  in  her  heavy  trouble.  It  was 
early  morning,  and  scarcely  twenty-four  hours 
had  passed  since  she  had  found  her  father  lying 
dead  upon  the  floor.  All  through  the  day 
there  had  been  so  much  to  see  to,  that  she  had 
had  no  time  to  think  of  her  loss.  But  with  the 
night  grief  had  come  in  all  its  bitterness  and 
driven  sleep  from  her  eyes,  so  she  had  risen 
before  anyone  else  and  begun  to  read. 

But  very  soon  she  closed  her  books  and  with 
folded  hands  thanked  God  that  she  was  no 
longer  lonely  and  forsaken,  but  had  a  true  friend 
who  could  help  and  protect  her.  Her  step- 
mother would  be  sure  to  come  back  now  and 
take  possession  of  the  property,  and  if  she  had 
not  had  him  she  would  be  completely  in  her 
power — and  then  she  would  have  needed  her 
tears  indeed,  not  only  for  her  father,  but  for 
herself  as  well.  Scarcely  had  the  thought 
passed  through  her  mind  than  she  heard  a 
soft  and  beautiful  music  outside  the  window 
that  overlooked  the  garden. 

256 


The  Home  257 

She  knew  who  the  player  was,  for  had  she 
not  sent  a  message  to  him  yesterday  ?  She 
wondered  for  a  moment  if  it  were  quite  fitting 
for  him  to  play  outside  a  house  of  mourning, 
but  in  a  second  she  brushed  the  doubt  aside. 
He  did  not  find  it  easy  to  express  himself  in 
words,  so  he  had  come  with  his  violin.  It  was 
no  more  unfitting  for  him  to  tell  her  of  his 
sympathy  in  that  way  than  in  any  other. 

She  was  sitting  with  her  back  to  the  window, 
so  she  could  not  see  him,  nor  did  she  dare  to 
move.  This  was  the  first  time  she  had  heard 
him  play,  for  she  could  not  count  the  tunes 
he  had  fiddled  in  Svanskog.  And  even  in  the 
midst  of  her  sorrow  she  could  not  help  a  little 
feeling  of  joy  that  he  had  taken  to  his  bow 
again.  She  knew  it  was  his  deep  love  for  her 
that  had  given  him  the  power  to  do  it. 

To  think  that  mortal  man  could  play  like 
that,  could  conjure  forth  such  sounds  of  beauty 
from  a  bow  and  strings  ! 

He  played  so  sadly,  so  very  sadly,  that  great 
tears  began  to  flow  down  her  cheeks.  But 
just  as  they  did  so,  the  music  entirely  changed. 
It  was  no  longer  gentle  and  consoling,  but  now 
she  felt,  although  she  could  not  quite  under- 
stand it,  that  it  had  grown  wild  and  full  of 
terrible  despair. 

She  grew  more  and  more  astonished.  That 
was  no  fitting  dirge  for  her  father,  the  father 
who  had  always  been  happy  himself  and  tried 
to  bring  happiness  to  others.  He  would  never 
dwell  on  sadness  or  torment.  As  soon  as  he 
found  that  life  was  black  and  complicated  he 


258  Liliecrona's  Home 

had  left  it  and  gone  away.  Of  course,  their 
own  hearts  could  not  but  be  filled  with  longing, 
and  a  sense  of  loss,  but  there  must  always, 
too,  be  brightness  in  their  remembrance  of 
him. 

No :  she  could  no  longer  believe  that  he  was 
playing  to  comfort  her.  He  was  using  his  bow 
now  for  someone  else,  to  tell  of  another's 
sorrow,  another's  despair.  How  rightly  was 
he  called  a  master  !  Little  as  she  knew  of 
music,  she  could  understand  him  as  though  he 
were  speaking  in  the  plainest  words.  And  what 
a  bitter  plaint  it  was,  the  plaint  of  one  covered 
with  the  blackest  night,  of  one  passing  through 
deep  waters,  and  tormented  by  the  consuming 
fires  of  affliction.  And  there  was  no  strong 
arm  to  lift  him  to  the  light,  no  redeemer  to  set 
him  free,  no  saviour  to  quench  the  fires  of 
torture.  What  sorrow  oppressed  her  heart ! 
In  her  anguish  it  seemed  as  though  it  must  burst. 
If  some  great  sinner  in  the  nethermost  depths 
of  hell  had  taken  the  violin  in  his  hands,  surely 
he  would  have  uttered  his  woe  in  such  tones  as 
these.  But  this  man  standing  out  there  ! 
Of  whose  sorrow  was  he  telling — of  his  own  or 
another's  ? 

She  waited  for  a  change,  for  the  player  to 
strike  a  new  note,  but  her  hope  was  vain.  He 
played  nothing  but  an  ever-growing  misery, 
no  longer  in  notes  of  beauty,  but  in  screams  of 
discord.  She  could  not  sit  and  listen  any 
longer ;  surely  he  must  have  met  with  the  most 
terrible  misfortune,  so  she  opened  the  window 
to  question  him.  No  sooner  did  he  see  her 


The  Home  259 

than  he  stopped  with  a  wilder  note  than  any 
before.  His  hat  had  fallen  off  during  his  wild 
music,  and  his  hair  lay  low  across  his  brow. 
His  face  was  as  pale  as  a  sick  man's,  and  every 
feature  was  drawn  with  pain. 

"  You  said  you  wanted  to  hear  me  play,"  he 
said.  "  Now  you  have  had  your  wish,  and 
know  what  it  sounds  like."  His  tone  was  so 
sharp,  alas  !  and  his  speech  so  violent,  that 
she  was  forced  to  believe  he  was  angry  with  her. 
The  very  thought  was  such  a  shock  to  her, 
that  she  dared  not  open  her  lips  to  ask  what 
had  happened. 

He  went  on  with  the  same  violence  :  "  You 
have  never  heard  me  before — perhaps  you  did 
not  even  know  who  it  was  playing  ?  '' 

Something  prompted  her  to  say  :  "I  thought 
it  was  the  evil  one  himself." 

"  Have  you  heard  him  then  ?  " 

"  He  will  surely  play  like  one  who  longs  for 
salvation,  yet  knows  it  can  never  be  his." 

When  he  heard  this  he  came  nearer  to  her, 
until  he  was  so  close  that  she  could  have 
stroked  the  lock  of  hair  from  his  brow  if  only 
she  had  dared.  "  You  are  right,"  he  said  ; 
"  that  is  true  enough.  And  for  me,  too,  the 
gates  of  heaven  are  locked  !  "  And  covering 
his  face  with  his  hands  he  sobbed  aloud. 

How  heartbreaking  it  was  !  How  gladly  she 
would  have  given  her  heart's  blood  to  ease  the 
pain  that  tortured  him.  "What  is  it?  What 
is  it  ?  '''  she  asked.  "  Have  you  done  any 
wrong  ?  Have  you  taken  anyone's  life  by 
accident  ?  " 


260  Liliecrona's  Home 

She  stopped  short,  conscious  that  this  was 
the  very  last  thing  she  should  have  asked. 

He  uncovered  his  face  and  shook  his  clenched 
fist.  "  I  am  a  murderer,  I  know.  For  a  time 
I  went  through  that  every  night ;  I  played  the 
death  dance  for  her,  and  she  danced  until  she 
fell  down  and  died.  So  it  is  plain  enough  what 
I  am." 

No  answer  was  possible.  It  was  best  to  let 
him  go  on,  now  he  had  once  begun. 

"  This  last  winter  I  have  not  played  for  her, 
and  that  is  why  I  have  dared  to  make  love 
to  you.  I  thought  it  was  her  wish,  but  it  was 
not  hers,  but  only  my  own." 

She  did  not  venture  to  speak  as  she  stretched 
out  her  hand  to  put  it  on  his  forehead  to  calm 
him,  but  he  started  back  beyond  her  reach. 

"  You  ought  never  to  have  asked  me  to  play 
— never — never  !  Rather  have  cut  through  the 
strings  when  you  heard  me  begin,  for  the  notes 
brought  everything  back  to  life  again."  And  he 
broke  into  a  wild  and  terrible  laugh.  "  I 
came  over  as  soon  as  I  got  your  message,  and 
brought  the  violin  with  me,  for  I  thought  it 
would  comfort  you  better  than  I  could.  But 
once  it  had  begun,  all  the  past  came  back  again. 
I  saw  the  great  room,  full  of  stamping,  breathless 
couples,  and  amongst  them  I  saw  one  dancing  so 
lightly,  and  with  such  grace,  that  she  seemed 
to  be  a  different  being  from  the  others.  And 
then  I  played  for  her — only  for  her.  And  I 
drove  her  to  her  death."  And  he  wrung  his 
hands  until  every  joint  and  finger  cracked. 
"  And  to  think  I  could  ever  forget  that !  To 


The  Home  261 

think  I  could  escape  the  pangs  of  remorse  and 
find  happiness ;  escape,  too,  from  the  vow  I  had 
taken  on  her  grave  !  I  was  surely  bewitched, 
and  had  forgotten  everything  until  the  violin 
brought  it  back." 

Maia  Lisa  felt  she  no  longer  existed  for  him. 
Yet  she  tried  to  make  one  attempt  to  defend 
herself  and  her  love. 

"  Have  you  quite  forgotten  me  now  ?  I, 
too,  have  your  vow." 

"  You  only  have  it  because  I  thought  it 
was  her  wish.  Now  I  know  better.  She  wishes 
to  have  me  for  herself  alone,  you  see.  You 
must  let  me  go  !  " 

"Dear  heart!"  she  answered,  "how  can  I 
let  you  go  ?  I  have  no  one  but  you.  If  it 
were  a  living  woman  who  claimed  you,  I  might 
do  it,  but  I  cannot  see  why  I  should  give  you 
up  to  a  dead  one." 

There  must  have  been  something  in  her  tone 
that  touched  him.  He  looked  up  at  her,  and 
the  dark,  terrible  expression  died  out  of  his 
face.  He  still  stood  holding  his  violin  and  bow, 
and  though  he  evidently  felt  them  a  burden 
he  would  not  put  them  on  the  ground  but 
handed  them  to  Maia  Lisa.  She  took  them  both 
in  silence,  and  laid  them  on  a  table  in  the  room. 

When  she  came  back  to  the  window  he  seized 
both  her  hands  and  held  them  pressed  against 
his  brow,  as  though  to  ask  her  to  feel  what 
wild,  hot  thoughts  were  chasing  through  his 
brain.  Then  he  began  to  speak  in  a  tone  of 
infinite  sorrow,  and  with  many  a  pause,  indeed, 
but  yet  somewhat  more  like  his  old  self  again. 


262  Liliecrona's  Home 

"No,  Maia  Lisa,  you  must  not  think  I  meant 
what  I  said  just  now.  It  is  not  in  the  least 
for  my  own  sake  that  I  ask  you  to  let  me  go. 
I  cannot  be  so  lost  to  all  sense  of  right  as  to 
drag  you  down  into  my  misery.  You  have 
seen  now  what  I  am  like  when  I  am  in  the  grip 
of  this  terrible  sorrow  of  remorse,  and  you 
cannot  still  wish  to  join  your  life  to  mine  ?  " 

He  stopped,  as  though  to  hear  her  answer, 
but  in  her  grief  and  terror  she  knew  not  what 
to  say,  so  he  continued  :  "I  know  so  well  what 
your  life  is  like,  and  I  would  desire  above  all 
else  to  stand  by  your  side  now  your  father  has 
gone.  But  you  must  consider  that  the  harsh- 
ness you  suffer  at  your  stepmother's  hands  is 
nothing  in  comparison  with  the  misery  that 
awaits  you  in  a  union  with  me.  Such  remorse 
sometimes  overpowers  me  that  I  cannot  stay  at 
home,  but  wander  far  from  the  sight  of  man, 
for  weeks  together,  in  the  desolate  places  of  the 
earth.  Sometimes,  too,  I  try  to  find  forgetful- 
ness  in  the  wildest  excesses.  Alas !  alas !  you 
cannot  but  know,  Maia  Lisa,  that  I  love  you 
too  dearly  to  drag  you  down  to  that.  I  ought 
never  to  have  come  near  you,  and  I  never 
would  have  done,  had  I  not  thought  I  was 
cured  !  "  Again  he  stopped,  but  when  no  answer 
came  he  went  on  again : 

"  Just  now  I  was  almost  angry  with  you, 
because  it  was  for  your  sake  I  had  played,  and 
it  was  playing,  that  taught  me  how  heavy  and 
dark  a  fate  still  hung  over  me.  I  wished  that  I 
had  remained  in  ignorance,  and  that  I  had 
married  you  in  the  belief  that  all  was  right. 


The  Home  263 

But  that,  you  must  know,  was  only  for  a 
moment,  for  I  love  you  too  dearly — alas !  too 
dearly  indeed ! — to  wish  you  ever  to  be  my 
wife." 

All  the  time  he  was  speaking  Maia  Lisa 
stood  looking  down  at  him.  She  knew  what 
he  said  was  true,  knew  he  did  suffer  from  such 
terrible  melancholy,  that  it  was  quite  possible 
she  would  be  far  more  unhappy  if  she  married 
him  than  if  she  came  once  more  under  her  step- 
mother's rule.  Yet  she  could  think  of  nothing 
but  that  she  must  stand  by  his  side  to  help  him 
in  his  need. 

"  Alas  !  "  she  said,  "  do  you  not  know  that 
I  would  far  rather  bear  sorrow  and  misfortune 
with  you  than  live  a  life  of  unmixed  joy  with 
anyone  else  ?  You  shall  never  leave  me  if  it 
is  true  that  you  love  me.  How  could  I  .  .  ." 

She  stopped,  for  she  saw  her  words  had  no 
effect  upon  him.  "  Alas!  "  she  thought,  "  how 
shall  I  make  him  understand  that  the  greatest 
misery  for  me  would  be  not  to  follow  him  and 
help  him  in  his  need?" 

"  All  this  year,"  she  thought  again,  "  I  have 
been  enduring  the  greatest  trouble  and  anxiety. 
Surely,  I  must  have  learnt  something  from  it  ? 
I  cannot  be  any  longer  such  a  child  as  I  was 
when  I  lost  dear  Father.  I  will  never  complain 
of  my  suffering,  if  only  it  has  taught  me  how 
I  may  keep  for  my  own  the  man  that  I  love." 
She  lifted  her  eyes  and  looked  over  the  orchard, 
as  if  seeking  someone  to  help  her.  And  as  she 
looked,  she  was  filled  with  astonishment  at 
the  sight  that  lay  before  her.  Perhaps  she  had 


264  Liliecrona's  Home 

had  no  eyes  to  notice  such  things  yesterday,  or 
perhaps  it  had  just  come  to  pass  in  a  night. 
At  any  rate,  she  had  not  seen  until  now  that 
all  her  father's  apple-trees  were  in  full  blossom. 
It  looked  like  a  great  roof  of  pink  and  white, 
stretching  from  the  house  right  away  down  to 
the  birch  grove  that  sheltered  the  orchard  from 
the  north  wind.  Every  branch  was  covered 
with  flowers  that  opened  more  and  more,  so 
it  seemed  to  her,  as  she  looked  at  them. 

How  the  bees  buzzed  and  hummed  amongst 
the  bright,  fragrant  blossoms.  The  sun  had 
reached  the  mountain  heights,  and  his  beams 
gliding  over  the  tree-tops  were  dancing  over 
the  fields,  as  if  impatient  to  pour  over  the 
gay  blossoms  even  more  colour  and  brightness 
than  they  already  possessed. 

As  Maia  Lisa  looked  at  them,  her  heart  was 
ready  to  burst  with  sympathy.  "  Poor  man, 
poor  man,"  she  thought.  "  Is  it  any  wonder 
he  is  melancholy,  when  he  has  never  had  a  home 
since  he  was  fourteen  ?  How  different  it  would 
be  if  he  came  to  Lovdala !  What  a  good  home 
I  could  offer  him  here.  I  know  what  happy 
days  I  have  had  here  until  this  last  year. 
He  should  walk  as  happily  under  the  apple- 
trees  as  dear  Father  did  in  his  time — if  only  I 
may  take  care  of  him  !  " 

Her  cheeks  glowed  and  her  eyes  shone  at 
the  very  thought.  If  she  could  only  talk  to 
him  about  Lovdala,  and  make  him  under- 
stand that  it  was  just  such  a  good  home  as 
this  that  he  needed. 

She  was  roused  from  her  thoughts  by  his 


The  Home  265 

dropping  her  hands,  which  he  had  held  until 
then. 

"  Now  give  me  the  violin  and  let  me  go," 
he  said.  "I  see  you  feel  that  I  have  no  choice 
in  the  matter." 

She  could  not  wonder  that  he  thought  she 
was  willing  to  let  him  go.  For  there  she  stood, 
looking  for  the  right  words  to  keep  him  and 
not  able  to  find  them.  "  Dear  heart,"  she  said 
very  hurriedly,  "  stay  a  little  longer.  Will  you 
not  look  round  Lovdala  a  little  ?  Are  not  the 
apple-blossoms  lovely  ?  See  how  the  golden 
sunshine  falls  over  the  grass.  Would  you  not 

like ?  "  But  there  she  stopped.  Words 

failed  her.  She  had  wanted  to  speak  of  the 
beautiful  home  that  they  two  would  build 
together  here  in  Lovdala,  but  she  felt  that 
he  set  no  value  on  it.  His  idea  of  a  beautiful 
home  was  something  very  different  from  hers. 

Once  more  he  asked  for  the  violin.  Then, 
he  said,  he  would  never  cross  her  path  again. 
She  pressed  her  hand  to  her  heart  with  a  heavy 
sigh.  So  now  he  was  going,  never  to  cross  her 
path  again  !  And  she  could  not  find  words  to 
move  him.  She  could  not  keep  him  by  her  side. 
She  saw  nothing  for  it  but  to  obey  him,  so  she 
left  the  window  to  fetch  what  he  wanted. 
But  when  Maia  Lisa  had  picked  up  the  violin 
she  stood  still  for  a  moment,  her  mind  filled 
with  new  and  wonderful  thoughts.  Here,  in 
her  hand,  she  was  holding  what  had  the  greatest 
power  over  him.  This  violin  had  been  his 
strength  and  comfort  in  bygone  days.  She 
understood — at  last  she  understood.  That 


266  Liliecrona's  Home 

violin  and  the  music  he  played  upon  it  were 
to  Sven  Liliecrona  what  Lovdala  was  to  her. 
Music  and  music  alone  was  his  home,  his  place 
of  rest.  Here  only  could  he  find  comfort 
and  refreshment.  When  he  played,  the  tones 
of  his  music  made  a  refuge  for  him  brighter 
than  any  apple-blossom,  than  any  sunshine 
even.  Then  he  entered  into  his  true  home,  a 
home  that  had  been  his  refuge  through  all 
the  years  of  his  lonely  life. 

In  days  gone  by  he  had  lived  through  hard 
days,  undismayed  because  he  had  his  violin, 
and  it  had  only  needed  one  stroke  of  his  bow 
to  open  the  door  of  the  world  where  he  was 
happy.  But  now  he  had  fallen  a  prey  to 
melancholy,  because  for  the  last  few  years 
he  had  not  been  able  to  play,  because  he  had 
been  shut  out  from  his  home.  Alas,  how 
miserable  she  would  feel  if  she  were  driven  from 
Lovdala.  How  she  would  pine,  away  from  her 
own  home  !  And  that,  of  course,  was  how  he 
felt.  He  could  not  settle  down,  he  did  not 
know  where  to  turn  for  rest  and  comfort. 
Maia  Lisa  felt  suddenly  reassured.  Now  she 
had  discovered  his  sickness,  she  knew  the 
remedy  as  well.  If  she  could  but  open  the 
door  of  his  real  home  for  him  once  more  he 
would  be  himself  again,  and  conquer  the  ill 
that  now  possessed  him.  She  stepped  up  to 
the  window,  but  kept  the  violin  in  her  hand. 

"  Dear  friend,"  she  said,  "  let  me  beg  for 
one  thing  only  before  you  go.  Take  your 
violin  and  play  once  more.  I  am  certain 
it  was  so  hard  for  you  just  now  because  it 


The  Home  267 

was  the  first  time  since  that  unhappy  night. 
And  I  cannot  think  that  it  will  always  be  like 
that.  Will  you  not  try  just  once  more,  that  I 
may  hear  you  properly?  I  am  sure  you  will 
conquer  yourself  and  play  for  my  sake.  Why, 
you  said  but  just  now  that  you  had  been  free 
of  this  melancholy  all  the  winter,  and  thought 
you  were  cured.  And  perhaps  you  are.  You 
must  not  think  the  evil  has  come  back  for 
good.  You  would  see,  if  you  would  only  dare 
to  play  once  again,  that  .  .  ." 

He  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "It  is  im- 
possible," he  replied.  "It  would  only  be  ten 
times  worse." 

But  she  persisted.  "  You  will  never  have 
to  do  anything  for  me  again,"  she  urged. 
"  Surely  you  will  not  refuse  this  one  thing 
when  we  are  going  to  part.  If  you  go  away 
without  playing,  you  will  be  sorry  afterwards 
that  you  said  'No'  to  my  very  last  request." 

He  did  not  look  any  more  confident,  yet 
he  yielded.  "  I  know  how  it  will  end,"  he  said, 
"  and  so  do  you.  Still,  I  will  not  refuse  you." 

Maia  Lisa  passed  her  hand  lightly  over  the 
violin,  whispering,  as  she  handed  it  to  him  : 
"  Dear  thing,  help  me,  oh  help  me  now  !  " 

As  Liliecrona  took  it,  the  dark  cloud  of  misery 
passed  across  his  face,  and  when  he  drew  his 
bow  across  the  strings,  the  notes  sounded  as 
wild  and  discordant  as  before.  He  looked  up 
at  Maia  Lisa,  as  if  to  reproach  her  for  enticing 
him  into  this  fresh  misery.  Her  heart  beat  so 
that  she  could  scarcely  bear  it,  but  she  would 
show  no  fear.  She  kept  her  place  by  the  window, 


268  Liliecrona's  Home 

and  forced  herself  to  look  down  at  him  with  a 
hopeful  smile  upon  her  lips. 

And  listen !  Surely  the  notes  were  already 
less  despairing,  less  unhappy.  Light  was  coming 
through  the  clouds,  the  prison  wall  was  break- 
ing down,  and  the  captive  soul  was  being  set 
free.  Up  they  went  in  steady  flight,  but  now, 
alas,  down  they  fell  again.  What  a  strife  it 
was,  now  down  in  the  depths,  until  it  seemed 
impossible  they  should  ever  rise  again  ;  then 
up  once  more,  rising,  falling,  falling,  rising ! 
But  then,  all  at  once,  the  melody  soared 
high  as  if  on  angels'  wings,  higher,  ever  higher 
in  its  joy  and  praise,  to  the  very  gates  of 
heaven  itself ;  far  above  all  human  voice  or 
thought,  up  to  the  home  of  purest  light.  And 
once  there,  how  it  tried  to  express  the  blessed- 
ness revealed. 

Suddenly  Liliecrona  let  fall  his  bow  as 
though  he  could  do  no  more.  His  music  had 
carried  him  up  and  up,  until  his  strength 
failed  him  in  sight  of  such  light,  such  power, 
such  glory.  He  looked  up  at  Maia  Lisa.  Great 
heavy  tears  filled  her  eyes  as  she  stood  with 
clasped  hands  and  transfigured  face,  no  longer 
on  earth,  but  risen  with  him  to  heaven.  He 
drew  a  deep  breath — no,  she  had  not  gone 
with  him,  she  had  flown  up  before.  His  music 
had  never  before  carried  him  so  high  ;  it  was 
her  love  alone  that  had  lifted  him  from  the 
darksome  pit.  It  was  indeed  true  that  it 
would  be  strong  enough  to  lift  him  above  all 
life's  darkness.  He  felt  it,  knew  it  would 
conquer  all  fear,  all  mistrust. 


The  Home  269 

He  drew  her  hands  to  his  lips  and  kissed 
them. 

"Have  you  been  in  your  true  home?"  she 
whispered. 

"  Maia  Lisa,  dear  one,  my  heart's  love  ! 
Never  once  have  I  played  like  this  before. 
It  was  your  heart,  your  love  that  played,  not 
I.  Whether  it  bring  you  joy  or  misery,"  he 
went  on,  "  here  I  must  stay.  You  must  help 
me  ;  you  must  not  let  me  go." 

And  how  silent  it  grew  in  the  garden,  amidst 
the  apple-trees  shedding  their  blossoms  above 
them  like  a  beauteous  bridal  veil. 


FINIS 


WILLIAM   BRBNDON  AND  SOK,   LTt>.,   PRINTERS,   PLYMOUTH 


121202 


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